Bondage Bonding
by Mirror and Image
Summary: [Complete] Shiro decides it is time for the team to properly bond. Bondage is the only answer. The Paladins are less than pleased. Set in Season 1.
1. Chapter 1

**Bondage Bonding**

Mirror and Image

Pidge was absolutely certain that Shiro was crazy. One hundred percent certifiable. One coo over the cuckoo's nest. Absolutely insane. Completely off his rocker. Nuts.

It had started after a simple practice. Since they finally understood how to form Voltron, the ultimate weapon of the universe, they had started practicing. Basic things like walking, flying, stuff that would build to strategies and victories. But, because theirs was a thrown-together team, coordination was less than easy. Lance wanted to be a soccer star, always leaving Hunk to somehow balance on his own. Pidge herself and Keith didn't always move in synch and could literally butt the heads of their lions together. To Pidge's mind, all they needed was practice. Time to finesse.

But no.

Shiro had been _inspired_.

So when they gathered for morning practice, they'd found Shiro and Coran, and before even a "good morning" could be uttered, Lance and Hunk had had their legs locked together and Pidge's right hand had been locked to Keith's left.

"What is this?" Lance demanded, trying to lift his bound leg only to jostle Hunk off balance and make him fall, which then made Lance tumble over as well.

Keith and Pidge glanced at each other and looked to their joined arms.

"This is team-building," Shiro said lightly, eyes somewhere between _a_ mused and _be_ mused. "Since Voltron is lacking coordination we'll practice outside of the lions where we can do less damage."

So, yes, Pidge was convinced Shiro was over the deep end.

Keith looked to Shiro, eyes narrowed, and frown firmly in place. "Shiro," he said in that maddening way that had _layers_ of subtext.

The Black Paladin looked over, and his amusement softened. "We're doing this," he said gently.

Keith scoffed and went to cross his arms, yanking Pidge's right in the process. Keith grumbled an apology and just looked away.

"Okay team," Shiro looked between both pairs, "for the duration of this week, you'll be locked together like this. You'll alternate days for chores. Keith, Pidge, today you'll follow Pidge's routine, tomorrow will be Keith's, etc. Lance and Hunk, today will be Hunk's routine."

"What?" Lance whined. "But I had _plans_ for today!"

"They'll keep to tomorrow," Shiro replied.

"Awww," Lance grumbled.

"Remember," Shiro continued. "Princess Allura still needs her rest after that ritual with the Balmera. We _aren't_ -" he looked firmly to both pairs "-to disturb her with our shenanigans and Coran has a lot of work to do repairing the castle." He gave a smile that was both amused and encouraging. "Dismissed."

Pidge was still frowning heavily and looked to Keith, who was just as unhappy. Lance was already trying to walk forward to Shiro to complain but instead dragged both of them to the ground. Oh, yes. Shiro had gone 'round the bend...

"Look," Keith muttered. "Just go about your business. I'll stay loose. Just let me get a book or something."

"Sounds like a plan," Pidge replied. "Let's go."

* * *

Shiro watched from the corner of his eyes as Keith and Pidge slipped out. While he doubted that the two would get into the level of trouble that pairing Keith and Lance would do together, he wasn't as confident as he would like to be. Keith usually listened but connecting with others wasn't easy for him. He might try and take an easy way out and given Pidge's glares he doubted she was on board with the exercise either. Still, he let them go. He'd check in on them later. Instead Shiro listened as Lance just kept complaining, even from the floor, and Hunk just passively sat there, patiently waiting.

Well, this wouldn't do at all.

So Shiro ignored Lance and reached down to help Hunk up. "Hunk, any plans for breakfast?"

"Hey!" Lance was indignant. "I was talking!"

Hunk glanced between Shiro and Lance before looking down and poking his fingers together. "Well, since the Princess is still so tired, I was thinking of making something special. Lots of carbs to replenish what she's lost in the long term and maybe some sort of sugars or sweets for a quicker pick-me-up..." The more Hunk talked, the less nervous he looked, words and plans starting to flow more easily. "I know people who donate blood tend to be very low on energy and that protein helps, but I don't really know enough about Altean physiology or that ritual to know if it's the same thing or not. Alteans seem to have more direct control over their energy than us, but Coran and Allura can't seem to explain it in a way that makes sense to me..."

Shiro smiled and held up a hand, knowing Hunk would keep going if given the chance. "Sounds like a plan. I'll help in the kitchen, if you want."

"No, it's fine," Hunk said with a smile, starting to turn, then promptly tripped over Lance. "Okay, may be a little help until Lance and I can do a three-legged race."

Shiro smiled as he helped them up again.

Going to the kitchen was slow going until the two of them found a rhythm.

"You know," Lance suddenly smiled, resting his chin between his thumb and pointer finger. "I like the idea. Can you picture it? Me, cooking breakfast for the Princess, serving her in bed. I can hear it now: 'Oh, Lance, how thoughtful of you! However can I repay your consideration?' " Shiro offered a flat look, but Hunk was way ahead of them and tripped Lance, letting the Blue Paladin land face first on the floor. Hunk remained standing and offered Shiro a thumb's up.

Once in the kitchen, it was clear that Hunk knew his way around. It was also clear that he couldn't move much with Lance.

"Lance, I need to get some boxes from that cabinet!"

"But I'm mixing!"

"This recipe is time sensitive!"

"I thought you needed me stirring this sauce-thingy!"

Shiro held in a chuckle. All of the Paladins would help Hunk cook once in a while, but Lance, who had been Hunk's roommate at the Garrison, was the most familiar. Shiro had hoped that familiarity would be more of a help than a hindrance, but apparently Lance was a little too familiar with staying out of the way of an enthusiastic gourmand. It took three tries to get some sort of cake or bread baking, two burnt sauces before something fruity was finished, and a whole lot of Hunk elbowing Lance away so he could get the plate and tray perfect.

"And now," Lance smiled in what he thought was an attractive manner, "to deliver to the princess!"

"No," Shiro said firmly, brushing what he hoped was flour off of his sleeve. "I think we've established that you two trying to walk up to the Princess's rooms would lead to all your hard work dissolving in the air and over the floor. I'll handle the delivery. You two need to practice walking."

Hunk hung his head in resignation while Lance's face broke comically into indignant rage.

"Hey! I see what you're doing!" Lance cried out. "You're going to usurp my plan and bring breakfast to the princess! No, no! Nononononono! That's _my_ job!"

But Shiro had already plucked up the tray and was heading out the kitchen. Lance instinctively rushed to grab him, but just ended up in a pile on the floor with Hunk landing on top of him.

"Work on walking," Shiro called back. He would give them a few hours then check in on them. Keith and Pidge might understand the lesson he was teaching once they were on Keith's day better, but Lance and Hunk were going to need a little guiding.

He knocked politely at Allura's door, waited a moment, then announced himself. One of the mice quickly crawled up to his shoulder, giving an appreciative nuzzle as he brought in Hunk's (and Lance's) hard work. The lights were dim and Shiro took a moment to let his eyes adjust. He turned to the mouse on his shoulder.

"She awake?" he asked softly.

"Only just," she replied around a yawn.

"Good morning, Princess," he greeted. The lights came on and Shiro saw Allura was sitting up in bed, supported by veritable mountain of pillows. Dark bags still dragged her eyes down and her hair was loose and askew. She rubbed at an eye before her arm dropped heavily back down to her lap.

Shiro didn't comment on how exhausted she still was. Instead he stepped forward and jutted his chin to the tray. "Breakfast."

"That sounds wonderful," she replied, "I woke most hungry."

He set the tray down. "Made by Hunk and Lance, especially for you." One of the mice climbed on to the try, already pulling out a napkin to lay on Allura's lap.

"That was most kind of them," she smiled gently. Slowly, with clear care, she took her utensils and started to eat. After a swallow, she looked back to him. "If you don't mind, may I hear how the Paladins are doing while we rest and repair?"

Shiro's lips may have twitched up in clear amusement.

"Bonding," he said lightly.

Something of his tone must have bled through, because Allura looked sharply at him, an eyebrow raised and with more perception than her fatigue implied. "Oh?" she asked delicately.

Okay, Shiro might be smiling broadly.

"Just a little exercise that Coran and I cooked up."

Her smile was radiant. "Oh, do explain."

Shiro chuckled, glancing down to better contain his amusement. "Oh, just a little bonding through bondage."

"Now this is an exercise I absolutely _must_ learn of," she smiled widely, eyes dancing.

So Shiro explained. He outlined the basics as she ate, going through the fundamentals and back-ups he had in mind, and delineating alternate strategies as the needs presented. He kept talking so that she could focus on eating, and it was much like giving a report to Commander Iverson when the old war horse was in a _mood_. Her look improved as she ate, though the heavy bags under her eyes remained.

"I admire your lesson," she smiled as he finished. "I may have to remember that. The Paladins of old never faced such training."

Shiro raised a brow. "Oh?" he asked lightly. "I seem to remember being cuffed with the entire team and told that we needed to feed each other. It's where I even got the idea."

Allura covered her mouth and giggled. "Oh, that wasn't an actual training strategy. The whole point of the day was to get all of you united against a common enemy. Me. So I chose to make things as difficult as possible. That was one of my last tricks."

"And it worked splendidly," he replied. "And now it's going to work again."

Resting back on her pillows, she smiled. "Thank you for doing all this as I recuperate."

"That's not a problem, Princess," he smiled gently. Staying busy was always best for him. Gave him something to focus on. It was too much quiet that would do him harm. "I think I may need to check in on them. I've left all of them to their own devices long enough."

"A good idea," Allura nodded. "I think I have the strength to wash up. Maybe brush some snarls from my hair."

Shiro looked to her more seriously. "You sure you can manage?"

"Yes," she replied just as seriously. "Then I shall have to retire to bed again. I'm still exhausted."

"Sounds like a plan." He nodded to her and held out an arm for the mouse to join its friends and turned. "Rest well, Princess."

"My thanks, Shiro."

Now. To find Lance and Hunk again. Maybe they were finally able to walk now.

It was a minor miracle, but the pair had, in fact, managed to make it to the main control room for the next shift in Hunk's day: help Coran. They all helped Coran in their own way, of course, but Hunk as the engineer was very hands on. Lance was crossing his arms and looking bored as the Altean advisor outlined the itinerary.

"And the biggest project is cleaning out the purifying vents," the redhead was saying, pointing to a hologram of the ship. "Number Five mentioned the damage created when she was trying to confront Sendak-" _Sendak fighting failing falling arm arena armor moonlight mutilation YOU ARE A BROKEN SOLDIER_ Shiro shook his head, "-and she said that some of the ducts had been damaged by her work. Also, Galran physiology doesn't need oxygen to breathe, and they turned off the filtration ducts while in control of the ship. I've only just noticed it, the air had been getting rather dusty."

Hunk nodded. "Cleaning vents and fixing superficial damage. Shouldn't be a problem."

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Lance said, tilting his head. "How do you expect to maneuver around in there with _me_? No offense, but it'll be a tight squeeze to begin with and now we're adding you to the mix."

Shiro winced as he walked up to them and saw Hunk pause to consider. His eyes shifted to Coran but Shiro and the Altean had both agreed not to coddle them for this. The royal advisor twirled his mustache as he tended to do, visibly unaffected as he replied. "No worries, you'll just have to snuggle together like a pair of baby yelmores – shouldn't be too difficult."

"I'm sure the both of you will be fine," he said, reassuring. Both boys startled to see him. "You just have to work together. You used to do that all the time in Galaxy Garrison, right?"

Lance looked suspiciously stiff while Hunk made a face. "Yeah," the Blue Paladin drew out. "About that..."

"We kind of always failed," Hunk said, always the most honest. "Like, really bad. Like, bad enough that Iverson would use us as examples of what not to do. Like bad enough that we never passed a single simulation."

Shiro blinked, a little surprised – not about the less-than-standard teamwork, but that it was _that_ bad. Iverson's examples were legendary when he decided to make one, for good or ill. "Well," he said carefully, "You're Paladins of Voltron now. You'll have to figure out how to make it work."

Shiro waited a beat, letting his words sink in. He couldn't sugar-coat this, there was no time and the stakes were too high. He was gentle when he could, but the price of being a CO was having to push when no one wanted to be. Lance and Hunk couldn't mess around – if they did they wouldn't have a leg to stand on – literally, as the legs of Voltron. They needed to understand the role they played and how to coordinate with each other. That required communication. Lance wasn't shy about his opinion, but the lynchpin would be Hunk. Shiro gave him a slightly heavier gaze before putting his hands on his hips. "Dismissed," he said.

He hoped it would be enough.

* * *

Hunk was, yet again, sprawled out on the floor. At least this time Lance had cushioned his fall. Seriously, he was going to need time in the cryopod for all the scrapes and bruises he'd gotten from falling down. This was _very_ annoying, and Hunk didn't think himself the type to be easily annoyed. He considered himself an easy-going guy, but _wow_ , ending up on the floor for the bajillionth time was getting to him.

"Breathe!" Lance gasped. "Need-to-breathe!"

Oh yeah.

"Sorry," Hunk mumbled again as he rolled to his knees and, again, stood up. "I thought we had this walking thing down. It's why we agreed to head to my workshop."

"I thought we did too!" Lance offered defensively, straightening out his jacket.

Hunk just sighed and offered a hand to Lance. "Try again?"

"We'll need to," Lance said sullenly. "Otherwise we're just sitting here in the middle of the hall."

"Technically, standing."

"Whatever."

"On three-"

"One, two, three!" Lance lifted his bound leg before Hunk was ready and only managed to raise it all of half an inch before Hunk lifted his. Lance swayed dangerously and grabbed Hunk's shoulder for balance, his weight pushing at Hunk himself and then they were back on the floor.

So annoying.

"Dude!" Lance moaned. "What are you even _doing_?"

"I can't help it!" Hunk moaned back, hoisting himself to a sitting position. "You say three way too fast and I'm not ready!"

"I'm counting to three! How much more lead time do you need?" Lance demanded, incredulous.

"Okay, you count to three in half a second, and that isn't enough time to be ready!"

"I do _not_ count that fast!"

"You totally do!" Hunk defended. "Trust me, I've been cooking since I was a kid, I used to be the one responsible for setting the oven timers, and I could always wander back into the kitchen before it went off – by the time I was a teenager we didn't even use timers anymore, everyone just asked me – _so I know how to track time!_ "

"Fine, then _you do it!_ " Lance shouted back.

Only then did Hunk realize their voices had risen to the point where they bounced and echoed off the hall, and he shivered with the creeps. Man, the place felt so _empty_ sometimes. He took a deep breath and willed himself to be calm as the pair got up to their feet again. Hunk tried not to think about the cavernous spaces that felt like outer space and made his stomach twist. He almost wanted to go back to the kitchens, where he could feel some small amount of control in his life, but he reminded himself of Shay and her bravery, and tried to take some for himself.

"Okay, two second pauses. One... Two... _Three_!"

Hunk stepped with his chained foot and Lance did the same. Hunk's stride was much shorter than Lance's, the the Blue Paladin stumbled a little to come down so suddenly, but he didn't outright fall. That was a success. They both stepped with their free feet, and Hunk counted again, and finally, _finally_ , they made it to Hunk's workshop.

"Success," Lance dully cheered.

Both Hunk and Lance looked conspiratorially at each other, eyebrows raised.

"No vents?" Hunk whispered.

"No vents," Lance solemnly agreed.

They both broke down chuckling, Lance slapping him on the back as Hunk wiped a stray tear from his eye. All ill feelings evaporated as they reconnected after such unpleasant walking. With them both sitting in Hunk's workshop and no more motion needed till lunch, things were looking up.

"So," Lance glanced around with a sly grin. "What projects you working on?"

Hunk smiled gleefully and started to explain.

* * *

Shiro walked into Pidge's usual lab, but didn't move farther than the door, watching quietly as she and Keith were hunched around something. For now, at least, the two of them where doing exactly what they were supposed to. Working together. Granted, it was more of a talking-than-actual-working, but that was better than how Lance and Hunk had been fairing thus far. Of the two pairs, Shiro expected these two to get the basic lesson the fastest, given how goal-oriented they both were. But the two _did_ have issues to overcome to ensure that they were both focusing on the same goal. Once they were past that, it would be smooth sailing. A corner of his lips twitched. Mostly. The following day, when the two were following Keith's usual pattern... That would likely be when the two would finally click with what he was aiming for. Hopefully their current day would give them plenty of prep. The both of them had to know that Keith's day would be far more strenuous with cuffed arms than just sitting in a lab.

Shiro nodded to himself. He'd spend more time with them tomorrow. For now, he needed to check on Hunk and Lance. He had a very good idea on what they were going to be doing for the rest of the day and he wanted to check. If they were also just sitting in a lab... Well... Shiro had plans for tomorrow.

* * *

Pidge, Keith accused, had cheated.

Pidge, she had countered, _totally_ didn't.

… She did, of course, but since Shiro was now certifiably _insane_ she figured it was only fair. Once they had gotten to her lion's bay she had quickly grabbed some tools and started fiddling with the cuffs. Keith had looked on in confusion, reminding her that Shiro had given them an assignment, but Pidge ignored him, explaining Shiro's jump off the deep end and explaining her plan to mitigate the headaches. Four hours later she had achieved a victory and the cuffs gained a small tether. It was only about one foot – hardly enough to be useful for her bigger projects, but it was enough to bother Keith much less as she tapped furiously at her keyboard and his wrist didn't need to be jerked left right and center.

Keith – who would never admit it – had nodded in approval and Pidge finally moved on to her projects. As the day waned Keith had learned more than he apparently ever knew about Altean and Galra technology – not that Pidge knew much, either, her understanding was still rudimentary at best, and the former drop out started shifting in his seat next to her, eying the door and making silent noises of wanting to move.

Pidge had paused to actually consider... but she had lost so much time on her projects and she needed to catch up...

"Question," she said, pausing in her typing. "How accurately are we following Shiro's orders about following our respective schedules?"

Keith looked down at her, frowning. "Pretty accurately I guess. Why?"

Pidge frowned – not _shy_ necessarily, but a little embarrassed she had to admit something the others (as far as she knew) didn't know. It couldn't be worse than telling everyone she was a girl, though, so she plunged ahead. "It's just that I'm a night owl. Like, I can be up until three in the morning working on projects. I don't want you to stay up with me, but if we really are following my schedule..."

She watched Keith consider, tucking one fist into an armpit since he couldn't cross both arms.

"Shiro said to follow your schedule," he said finally. "We should do what he says."

"Even if he's crazy?"

"Even if he's crazy."

Pidge nodded and stood, arching her back a little and pointing to the other side of one of her worktables. "There's a cot I keep here. You can sleep on it. With the tether, it shouldn't be a bother. Do you toss and turn a lot?"

"Not really."

"Then we're a good match," she said. She smirked as a thought occurred to her. "Hope Hunk and Lance are decent matches."

"Or not," Keith muttered under his breath as he got up to follow. They both shared a chuckle and pulled out the cot, assembling it by the computer.

"You get comfortable first," Pidge said, "I can work around you."

Keith thought out it before nodding, stretching out on his back and wiggling around before he was comfortable. Pidge tossed a blanket over him and he kept his bound hand above it, shucking off his jacket as much as he could with the cuffs and twisting it around as a second blanket. "Wake me when you want to go to bed," he said. "My room is closer, we can sleep there."

Pidge nodded and wished him good night.

Keith's breathing eventually evened out and disappeared from her thoughts, her screen taking up her world as she continued to reverse engineer the programming language of the Galra crystal that had corrupted the castle's systems. The difficulty threshold had spiked last night when she finally figured out that the crystal wasn't binary but rather a three-state machine, and earth technology had never gotten further than theory. She had sort of figured out naming conventions and might have learned what symbols registered as variable names, but the work would be slow and brain-wracking. In other words, a beautiful challenge. Her world narrowed to the taps of keys and the glow of a screen and the occasional shift as one foot fell asleep versus the other. Without the blanket over her, her bare legs occasionally sent shivers but her work had filled her head.

It wasn't until she heard footsteps politely announcing their owner that she blinked at looked at the clock. Two a.m. She straightened up and felt a crack spread through her entire back. Grimacing, she started to lift her arms to stretch before she remembered the extra appendage, and therefore the extra _person_ attached to it. She rolled her shoulders instead and pulled her glasses off to rub her eyes.

"Hey, Shiro," she mumbled in a quiet voice.

The Paladin sat down on a box, the dim light still able to show his exasperation. "You should be in bed," he said. "Especially now with the bonding exercise."

"I asked Keith," she whispered, defensive, "He said it was okay."

"He shouldn't have."

Pidge made a face, turning up the lights incrementally to see better by but still be dim enough not to wake Keith. Shiro was still in his civvies, shock of white hair sleep tousled and there was a tightness around the eyes. Another nightmare. Pidge straightened (to her back's complaint), eyes darting to Keith, uncertain what to do. This was always... private. Shiro slept as little as Pidge, though obviously for different reasons, and it wasn't uncommon for them to spend time together in the early morning hours. Having Keith here, even asleep, somehow made the entire thing awkward. Her toes curled in her sneakers and she frowned, struggling how to do this differently.

"... Are you okay?" she asked softly.

Shiro's smile tightened before fading, eyes drifting off. "... fine..." It must have been bad, then.

Pidge had stopped asking if he wanted to talk about it a long time ago, pursing her lips instead and shifting her weight. When in doubt, bring up old grievances. "You're crazy, you know," she said. "This whole idea is crazy." She lifted her bound hand the twelve inches of the tether and shook it for emphasis.

Shiro looked at the cuffs and his eyes widened as he saw Pidge's handiwork. Ah, _Quiznak_.

Shiro didn't yell though, only covered his face with his human hand and rubbed his fingers down the length of it. "Pidge..." he said in warning.

"What was I supposed to do?" the green Paladin demanded in a stage whisper, instantly defensive. "I can't type at a keyboard without giving both of us carpel tunnel! He still has no hope of training tomorrow – a foot isn't nearly enough for him to do all his fighting."

"That's the whole point, Pidge," Shiro said calmly. "You have to learn to work together – not around, not in parallel, not adjacent, _together_. You have to learn to have help on your projects, and you have to learn to fight as a team. Cheating the system won't make that lesson any easier."

Pidge breathed loudly through her nose. "... I know," she mumbled. "It's just..."

"It's not Matt," Shiro said, not unkindly. "You've only really been that close with Matt. Sam must have said that a dozen times on the flight to Kerberos. Joined at the hip, twins in all but name, desperate to follow in your brother's footsteps."

Pidge squirmed, looking away as Shiro hit the nail on the head.

"... I'm sorry," she said finally. "I've been so focused on my family this whole teamwork thing... it hasn't really sunk in the way it has for the rest of you." She looked down to her sleeping partner. "He was on board from the get-go, I think."

Shiro smiled.

"It's hard," she admitted. "Thinking about the rest of you. Not that I don't, I do, but even now that I've decided to stay I still have this big mental shift and... _this..._ " she wiggled her wrist, unable to find the right words.

The black Paladin stood, crossing the distance and sitting next to Pidge, wrapping a warm arm around her and encasing her in heat. Her muscles melted almost immediately. "I know it takes time," Shiro said. "Someday Keith will tell you how long it took to warm up to _me_. But it has to start somewhere, you can't hide here with your Lion, working on your projects, and just expect to be able to work together with Keith to fight as Voltron. You have to know each other, understand each other, even a little. It took the entire flight to Kerberos to get to know Sam and Matt, and by extension you and your mother. It took time to get to know Keith, and it will take time to know Lance and Hunk and the princess and Coran. I'm just giving you a little push."

Pidge nodded into his chest, Shiro's heat banishing her chills and making her comfortable. "I'll try," she mumbled.

She was asleep within minutes.

* * *

Keith waited for Pidge to fall asleep before he opened his eyes. Shiro was already looking at him, the older man had known he was awake and listening to the conversation.

"The same goes for you, you know," Shiro whispered.

Keith sat up slowly, his jacket curling back down his arm and the chill of the air giving him goose-bumps. He looked at Pidge, curled against Shiro's chest and the other Paladin's arm around her small shoulders, and something stung, deep in the back of his mind that he wasn't sure how to label. Shiro being down here... that wasn't abnormal. It wasn't just Shiro checking in on his latest bonding project, it wasn't just Shiro being worried. This was a regular event – Pidge didn't even react that Shiro came down here. _Shiro_ didn't even react to coming down here. Pidge even asked after Shiro, like it was a regular question to ask, and it wasn't like Keith was _jealous_ , per se, but none of this sat right with him, and he found his eyes darting between Shiro and the girl, frown pressing down into his chin.

Shiro, of course, saw right through him as always and offered a reassuring smile.

"Don't worry," he said. "She's not going to take your place."

Keith colored in the dim light. "I wasn't thinking that," he muttered, looking away. Then, against his will, "... does this happen a lot?"

Shiro's face changed, the bemusement and warmth fading to something sadder, more distant. Keith had seen this look several times since Shiro's return and stiffened, waiting for another flashback or freeze up, but Shiro simply breathed in long and deep through his nose and exhaled. "It happens," was all the other Paladin could say. "When it does I walk around the castle and check in on all of you. It gives me piece of mind." Then he smiled, slightly forced. "Pidge of course is never in bed when that happens, so I have to go looking for her. The next step is putting her to bed. I'll need your help with that."

Keith was about to protest when he remembered the cuffs. He looked down at the offending object before sighing through his nose and slipping his arm through the sleeve of his jacket and putting it back on. "What do you want me to do?"

"Carry her."

… What?

Shiro clearly saw his look of incredulity and gave a soft chuckle. "Bonding, remember?"

Keith grumbled, but stood carefully, letting that foot of free space that Pidge had given them work to his advantage so that he could get his arms around her without breaking his wrist. Shiro had his infuriating smile on, clearly amused, so Keith, with no one else to see, made a face.

Pidge was heavier than Keith expected. She was so small and her build so skinny, added to the fact that she could zip through enemies without anyone touching her and how she could practically fly across the room, even faster than him, he tended to think of her as almost lighter than air. But carrying her weight now, Keith reminded himself that the Garrison _did_ have basic fitness regulations and that even Hunk, the most stocky of them, was all muscle. That also meant that Pidge was probably stronger than she looked as well. Keith held back a smirk. No wonder she liked camouflage so much. She was _built_ for people to underestimate her.

Shiro gave a soft, small smile, and together they started to leave the bay and head back to the Paladin rooms.

"She's wrong, you know," Keith said softly. "I wasn't on board with this team thing right away."

Shiro turned, with a brow raised. "I seem to recall _you_ were the one most vocal about Pidge's brief decision to leave us. _You_ were the one to first start working together with Pidge in that food fight the Princess instigated. I can see why Pidge thought you might be on board pretty fast."

Keith frowned, looking away. "That's not… It's just…." He stuttered to a stop. How could he state this? "I can work with others," he said softly. "That's never been a problem. Even at the Garrison. Talking about engines, or schematics, or plans and implementations. Business talk is easy. We need to be a team to form Voltron. We needed to be a team to fly a shuttle back at the Garrison. I _get_ that part. Open communication, blah, blah, blah."

He fell silent, remembering far too well the Garrison. He excelled in all his classes, especially flights. He had always been the strongest part of the team exercises. The fastest, the strongest, the most adaptive. The others had to be as efficient as him to keep up, and that lead to his teammates staying on task without idle side-chatter. There didn't need to be meetings outside of class, or hanging out in order to get things done. That's where he had been coming from before. Calling out Pidge to stay on task with that weird focus exercise, or correcting Lance in the maze or anything else. It was how things worked at the Garrison. Work hard, get ahead, and the others had to follow.

But it wasn't working _here_. Voltron needed more than just being together to one goal. Shiro was right. They needed _bonding_. They needed that relationship that came with hanging out and closeness and sharing stories. With telling jokes and camaraderie. All the things Keith _wasn't_ good at. That he was outright _terrible_ at.

"Voltron needs more than that… And I'm not…."

Shiro reached over with his flesh arm and wrapped it around Keith's shoulder. "It's not your forte."

Keith mumbled, "No."

Shiro huffed a laugh and then pulled away, running his hand through Keith's hair, much to Keith's frustration. " _Shiro_ ," he hissed. And of course, the Black Paladin chuckled again.

"I'm not asking you to become good at this overnight, Keith," he said softly. "That's impossible. I'm not asking you to become like Lance or Hunk, who are both very open and expressive. Just increments, Keith. Start small, like you did with me. Though, hopefully," he smiled again, "a little faster. Focus on Pidge for the next few days and being able to work with her. Show her the same attentiveness that you usually reserve for me."

That couldn't happen, Keith scowled. He was aware of Shiro in a way that wasn't explainable. That wouldn't ever change. Shiro was… _Shiro_. That wasn't something that could be replicated.

But…

Paying more attention.

Yeah, Keith figured he could do that.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** This fic is six chapters and only half beta'ed, poor Tenshi has fallen off the face of the planet. It will be updated weekly.

This fic was actually written before Personality's Borderline, as a way to better get into the heads of the Voltron team. We have our favorites: the holy trinity of Shiro, Keith, and Pidge; but this fic isn't glorify them at the expense of others. This is, above all else, exactly what it says on the tin, the Paladins getting closer. The fic takes place between the assault on the Castle of Lions and expedition to the Balmera and the "haunted" episode, so everyone is still new to each other and has projects revolving around those events, hence Pidge studying a crystal and Coran talking about cleaning out vents.

We've tried really hard to be true to the characters as they are in the show, little to no headcannon because we're learning everyone's respective voices. Everyone will have one or two moments to shine and we slowly build up to the next episode. A Slice of Life fic, if you will.

Hope you all enjoy!


	2. Chapter 2

**Part Two**

Shiro woke up early, only having a few hours after having spoken with Keith and Pidge. That was common. His body was accustomed to little sleep. But he was fine with that since, even now, he got more sleep than he did under the tender mercies of the Galra. Memories flittered around the edges of his awareness and he forced them back as he continued forward. Coran was with Hunk and Lance, releasing their cuffs long enough for showers and morning ablutions, and he'd be doing the same with Keith and Pidge.

And maybe make sure Pidge couldn't lengthen their cuffs again.

Coran might have been the better choice for that, but it was Keith and Pidge. Shiro had connections to both of them from before Voltron. He didn't mind checking in on them since both had needed to be hit over the head with a few things the previous night. Or earlier that morning, depending on one's point of view. Besides, he knew he'd be spending the day with Hunk and Lance.

Both arms of Voltron were up and, to Shiro's pleased surprise, Pidge had already shortened the cuff. Both were also talking, clearly about how to handle showers, when Shiro knocked and came in.

"Okay, I'll take the cuffs," he said. "I'll give them back once you're at the training deck."

The two showed surprise, and maybe a little relief since there was no doubt that showering would be awkward.

"Don't be late. I need to talk to all of you before you start your days."

Keith nodded, never having been one for words, and Pidge replied with a perky, "Sure thing!" before racing off. Clearly she was glad to be going to a shower.

Shiro held in a chuckle.

"One hour," he told Keith. "Make sure she shows up."

"Will do."

Good. An hour would be enough time for everyone to wake up and get changed. So he headed up to see Allura and update her.

The princess was awake but not out of bed, her hair cascading out over the pillows. The pink in her pupils was darker, almost to black, and she lifted a hand up to rub one of her eyes as the mice gathered around her. "Morning, princess," he said lightly, giving her time to wake up more fully.

"Shiro…" she said groggily. She moved to sit up stiffly, and two mice bounced up her arm and into her hair, using it as firepoles to slide down. Was that the mice equivalent of combing…? "What news today?"

"Not much different than yesterday," he said honestly. "Nobody's been up in the vents yet - that will change today - and Pidge hasn't cracked the code to the Galra crystal yet. Nobody really followed directions and today Coran and I are going to make things a little more difficult."

"A normal day then," she replied, slightly dry. The two mice continued to comb her hair as the other two climbed up to her shoulders, squeaking in her pointed ear. Shiro wondered absently how sensitive the ears were. Allura stretched her back, first one way and then another, and Shiro noticed how thin she was, making a mental note to pass that to Coran and Hunk. Poor girl was downright bony. Did using so much energy to heal the Balmera take such a toll on the body as well?

"How fare the other paladins?"

"Training is… slow," Shiro said carefully. Allura wasn't awake enough or healthy enough to worry about things just yet, but he wasn't going to outright lie to her either.

"I see…" she said slowly, alertness trying to bleed through. "Perhaps dancing or combat," she added. "To make one aware of the other."

Shiro blinked, the idea worming its way into his head. That would be interesting…

He offered a warm smile. "I'll keep that in mind, princess," he said. "The boys should be up soon with your breakfast. Try to eat as much as you can."

She nodded absently, and Shiro idly wondered how much she was really absorbing. He'd have to check in later. Preferably after she got some food in her.

But then she looked at him, and though it was clear how exhausted she still was, even days after the Balmera, her eyes pierced through him and Shiro decided to amend that earlier thought. She was still aware.

"I was awake for three hours at a time yesterday," she said softly. "Today it will be four."

"Don't push yourself," he said gently. "For now, we're safe. Take the time to rest. Being in a war rarely lets one have such time. Take it while you can."

She smiled, softly, and one of the mice that was combing her hair shifted to her shoulder and nuzzled her. "Alteans are accustomed to using their energy for others. I will not take so long to recover as you think. The more energy I gain from my rest, the more of my energy goes into restoring my energy. Recoveries of energy depletion tend to heal more exponentially than constantly. Replenishment starts slowly, then accelerates."

Shiro raised an eyebrow dubiously. "I'll keep that in mind, Princess."

Allura nodded then yawned. "Now, as for the other Paladins, I shall expect an update this afternoon."

"If you are awake," he agreed with a wry grin.

"I shall be."

Shiro chuckled to himself, and took his leave. His next stop was Coran.

"It's true that Alteans can replenish their energy at an exponential rate," the old noble confirmed. "Much of technology, like this castle or the Lions are designed around quintessence and life's energy. It's like a muscle. Use it often and steadily and it will get stronger. If the Princess says she'll be awake for four hours, then she will be."

Shiro nodded. "I worry that she might be pushing herself."

"I know," Coran rubbed at his mustache, looking more serious than usual. "And she is, a little. But I'm hovering around far too much for her to get away with pushing too far. Rather like a Klokarian nekomwth."

The foreign analogy washed over Shiro and he took the underlying meaning that Coran meant. "I'd recommend you keep doing that," he suggested.

Coran gave a sly grin, eyes slanted to almost comedically cunning. "She couldn't stop me if she wanted to."

Smiling, Shiro patted Coran on the back. "Come on, we have some Paladins to yell at."

They arrived at the training deck and found the other Paladins there and waiting. Keith and Pidge were talking quietly, which Shiro expected after speaking to Keith the previous night. Lance and Hunk were also talking, or rather, Lance was doing all the talking and Hunk just smiled and interjected when he felt he needed to.

"Okay team," Shiro greeted, "yesterday was not a surprise, but it was disappointing."

All four had the decency to look abashed.

"Both groups found the easiest thing to do and stayed put in one spot unless absolutely necessary," Coran outlined. "The point of this exercise is to learn how to work together, no matter what you're doing. Not just sitting around and talking about whatever projects our engineers are working on."

Both pairs glanced at each other, then back to their partners.

"So today, instead of telling you to follow what one of you does, we're assigning some tasks as well as that," Shiro explained. He turned and nodded to Coran, and the old advisor nodded, pulling out the cuffs and stepping forward. "Lance and Hunk. You'll still be doing Lance's day today. However, since yesterday you were _supposed_ to repair the vents through the castle, you'll be doing that first. I will accompany you to assist."

The legs of Voltron both sighed heavily, as what appeared to be the weight of the universe sank onto their shoulders hunching them down.

"Keith, Pidge-"

"Shiro," Keith softly interjected.

Shiro actually paused, raising an eyebrow. "Yes?"

"Pidge and I were talking," he said, and Pidge pulled out a long strip of cloth. "We think we understand where yesterday went wrong and we'd like a do-over."

" _That's not fair!_ " Lance shouted. "We aren't getting a do-over, so you two shouldn't either!"

Shiro turned to Lance and frowned. "You two will be on your way now. I'll be along shortly."

"But-"

"I will decide and that will be all. You yelling before they or I have even said anything isn't going to help that."

Lance hung his head in defeat. "Fine," he grumbled. "Come on, Hunk. "Let's go."

"Woah! Wait! Count! Ooof!"

And they were both on the floor.

Shiro let out a breath and turned back to Pidge and Keith. "I'll start walking with you."

Another crash resounded behind them as Coran started pointing out where the nearest vents were.

"Right," they both said in unison.

They headed out the training deck and Shiro noticed something. "Did you two tie your hands even further together?"

"Yeah," Pidge answered. "We figured out why we weren't bothering with the point of the lesson. As long as Keith was loose, I could still do what I needed, even if we were cuffed together."

She held up their bound arms. Coran's cuffs were still there at the wrists, but cloth had now wrapped both of their hands together, preventing use of fingers and hand, as well as the arms that the cuffs put together.

"This is why we want a do-over," Keith added. "Pidge will still be doing the day as normal, but this way I'm actually needed at the keyboard for typing and we need to keep up with each other as well."

Pidge nodded. "That falls more in line with what this exercise is all about."

"Hmm," Shiro paused, actually impressed. Pidge's day _was_ easier than Keith's was going to be for this exercise, and this might be a better ease-in than what they hadn't really done the previous day. They were at least wrapping their heads around what was needed and putting in an effort this time. Not that Lance and Hunk weren't trying, but they still weren't really working together to problem solve yet.

"This will work, but I will add one thing to your day."

"Yeah?" Pidge asked.

"Cooking."

"What?"

Shiro grinned. "There's no way Hunk will have time to cook today, and that leaves the only other options for cooking would be Coran-."

Both turned distinctly green.

"Or myself."

Keith paled.

"Can't you cook, then?" Pidge asked. "We're already going to be struggling with just typing and-"

"We'll cook," Keith said firmly.

"But-"

"We'll cook," Keith repeated. "Sorry, Shiro, but there's no way in this entire universe I'll have any of your cooking again, let alone with you trying to cook something from _alien_ food."

"I thought you'd see it my way."

Keith shuddered.

* * *

Lance was _bored_. B. O. R. E. D. _BORED._ Coran had led them to a floor-access to the vents and given a map of where they needed to be to fix the damage from the Galra infiltration, but nobody had considered that Pidge was actually the smallest member of the team and therefore she (still getting over that he was a she, even now) had gone through the smallest vents possible to avoid the drones. It was a squeeze for Lance, let alone _Hunk_ , and Lance was fairly sure that if _Pidge_ was the one (in)directly responsible for the damage _she_ should be the one to fix it.

But no, instead he and Hunk was pressed flat in a claustrophobic space, Hunk on his belly doing the work and Lance behind him on his back staring up at nothing.

He was _bored to tears._

"I still say Pidge should be the one fixing this," he said.

"You're already said that like a million times," Hunk replied, voice carrying away from the blue Paladin. "It's not gonna change anything."

"But why shouldn't it?" Lanced asked, eyes tracing patterns in the scuff marks and dents of the enclosed space. "Who died and put Coran and Shiro in charge? It's a perfectly valid way to fix all the damage."

"Except that isn't the point of the exercise, it is?" said a new voice.

Lance startled (not shrieked, definitely not shrieked) very loudly and moved to sit up, forgetting temporarily how small the space was and banging his forehead into the ceiling of the vent. Hands shot up to clutch his forehead and cover his mouth of Spanish curses as he tried to twist around and away from the offending roof. He couldn't completely turn because of his bound ankle however, and he was stuck at just over ninety degrees, moaning into his hands as the throbbing to his forehead subsided.

When he could finally form words that could be listened to in polite company he twisted his head up to glare and Shiro, who was on his stomach and looking at him with a pleasant smile on his face. "You did that on purpose!" he accused.

"Is something important going on back there?" Hunk asked from his end of the duct, "Or is Lance just trying to distract me? I can't always tell sometimes."

"I do _not_!"

"Lance," Shiro said. "Pick one person to talk to."

The Paladin had a retort on his lips but considered for a split second. With the two of them stretched out and facing away from each other talking to Hunk was harder. Shiro was the only choice. Shifting around, Lance was able to get a little more twisted upright so he wasn't on his back. His bound leg was pinned under him, but at least now he could look at Voltron's glorious leader right-side up. "I choose you," he announced. "Because you are out of your mind."

"Uh, Lance, don't accuse the guy who's out of his mind that he's out of his mind. If he's out of his mind then it might drive him further out of his mind and make you lose your mind and-oh! There it is!"

Lance rolled his eyes, but Shiro just kept smiling politely, watching him waffle between two conversations. Hunk had stopped talking, though and Lance considered it one less distraction. "What's the point of all this?" he demanded. "How is tying us up making us closer?"

"Hunk said it himself yesterday," Shiro said, "Your team never passed a single simulation. Why?"

"How should I know?" Lance demanded, put out by the memory. "I did what I was supposed to. Hunk was always barfing into the engine block and Pidge had a whole other agenda like the entire time we were there. What did you expect?"

Shiro looked at Lance. No, he didn't look, he Looked, that scary expectant Look that Mama got sometimes, the one that said he'd done something wrong and had no idea what it was. The pause drew out, Shiro clearly waiting for Lance to figure it out, but the blue Paladin was clueless. It was exactly like he said - Hunk and Pidge didn't do what they were supposed to. He did. He flew the ship, he gave the orders, he tried to get them out of trouble when they messed up. It wasn't like he was deliberately sabotaging their teamwork - he'd even tried to get Hunk and Pidge to sneak out and hit the town - that was bonding, but then Shiro had crash landed and… and everything changed. He didn't understand what the Garrison had to do with the _now_ , because the now was so radically different as to be unrecognizable.

Shiro's Look morphed slowly into a frown, and dark chocolate eyes narrowed. "Tell me what it was like," he said suddenly.

"... What?"

"Galaxy Garrison. Tell me what you thought of it. What was your first day like?"

Lanced stared for a second, unsure where this was going.

"Lance ran around the entire base screaming that he got in," Hunk happily supplied. "And I'm ready to move to the next vent. On three…"

Hunk started his perfect counting, and Lance shimmied accordingly, moving backwards down the vent as Hunk moved forwards, Shiro trailing after and watching Lance with a weirdly intense look. He made a motion, silently asking that Lance talk while crawling at the same time. Lance as distinctly dubious, he knew that was just asking for trouble. Shiro's look became more menacing and insistent, though, when Lance didn't start and the blue Paladin was forced to capitulate.

"I wasn't _screaming_ ," he said, needing to clear that up first. "But I really was super excited. That first day was like the first day of the rest of my life, I was sure it would be clear skies all the way." He could still remember the euphoria, the elation, drinking in every sight and sound and smell of the base, when everything was new instead of boring and samey. "I met Hunk in our room and we must have talked for an hour."

"And made us late for our first class," Hunk added helpfully. "Also, left turn coming up."

Lance stopped, turning his head around to look behind him and watch Hunk take the left turn. He continued to awkwardly crawl backwards into the turn, moving his ankle in time with Hunk. Shiro followed behind, and something in his frown eased as they kept time with their shared ankle. Lance ended up on his back again briefly, and the turn brought them to a vent with significantly more room - Lance could (almost) sit up straight if he craned his neck right, and the signs of the Glara infiltration were more obvious. There were several dings and dents, blaster scorch marks, and bits of debris from whatever chase had happened while Lance was apparently dying from an explosion.

Seeing the damage after the fact made everyone pause, drinking in the signs of the fight. Shiro's eyes were tight, he picked up a piece of something and held it in his hand, tiny tremors barely visible.

"So… we're going to obviously be here a while," Hunk said, shimmying over to a damaged panel and beginning the work of pulling it off. Lance stretched his leg out to give the engineer room and leaned back on the opposite wall. His eyes wandered, the sober feeling of the signs of battle slowly wearing away as he got used to the space. Hunk was mumbling as he did his work, straightening occasionally to pull something out or put something in. Shiro was… Lance looked again. Shiro was very, very still, his eyes tight and far away, as he held the piece of whatever-it-was in his fist. His breathing was shallow.

"Hunk…" Lance said softly, tugging his bound ankle to get the gold Paladin's attention. Hunk looked up and Lance jutted his head to Shiro. He saw what Lance saw and looked back.

"What do we do?" he asked.

Lance didn't know and said as much.

"I wish Keith was here," Hunk mumbled - Lance stiffened in anger almost immediately but the engineer continued in ignorance, "He was the one doing all the reading on PTSD so he would know what to do, cause I don't know what to do."

"I guess we just have to wait for him to come back," Lance said softly. "How long do these usually last?"

"I don't know. I've never seen him do one - not with Keith banishing me as soon as I saw it. Do you think the castle has a pager? Like, 'paging Keith, paging Keith, Shiro's having a flashback could you please report to vent…' Actually, where even are we?" Hunk started to reach for his map but Lance put a hand on his arm.

"Just get back to work," Lance said. "I _do_ know that he doesn't want to turn these things into a big deal, so maybe if we pretend it's not happening that will make him feel better?"

"But-"

"Hunk, could you _please_ just do what I say?" Lance said, and there was no pleading in his voice whatsoever. Honest.

Hunk frowned of course, deeply, and cast more than one worried glance at Shiro, but he eventually turned back to the open panel and started working. Lance stared at Shiro in the meantime, rubbing his chin and trying to think of a way to help. No one in his extended family had PTSD, but he did have that one high-strung aunt and a cousin on the other side of the family that had "episodes". Actually, what did they say she liked…?

Lance threw another look to Shiro, still lost in his own head, and decided it couldn't hurt. Hugging him was probably out of the question, but Lance started humming, a simple children's song his cousin liked, dusting off the tune from memory before he could recall the words. It had been _forever_ since he had spoken Spanish, everyone at the Garrison spoke English and Lance had grown up with the second language, but he fell into his first language easily, finishing one verse and moving on to the second before he started over. He wasn't a world class singer the way his great-grandfather supposedly was, but he carried a tune well enough and the song brought up memories of home - holding his cousin when she was upset, biking in high summer, hiding under the beds during a hurricane, the sound of dancing and drums and the salty smell of the ocean. He didn't know how long he sang but eventually he drifted off, lost in his own memories before he shook himself back and glanced over to Shiro.

No change.

Lance shrugged and sang a different song, a dusty pop ballad that was popular when he was barely a toddler, and then a soft lullaby he would sing to his younger siblings, then one of his favorite church hymns... he cycled through the songs he could remember the words to, mind drifting with the memories attached to them. Hunk looked up once or twice, a soft look on his face, before he nodded and got back to work.

Eventually, as Lance's mouth was starting to dry out, a hand touched his shoulder. Lance looked over to see Shiro back to himself, watching him with - was that a smile?

"I didn't know you spoke Spanish," he said softly.

Lance blinked. "Dude, I'm from _Cuba_."

Shiro's smile grew slightly bigger. "I didn't know that, either." A pause, then, "Thank you."

Lance hadn't expected that for some reason, the surprise made him stiffen, but he nodded his acknowledgement anyway. "... Are you okay?" he asked, very carefully.

"Better, now," Shiro answered, just as carefully.

"Do you wanna talk about it?" Hunk asked from his position at the panel. "Keith said it helps to talk about it."

Shiro didn't say anything for a long time, Lance almost wondered if he would drift off again, but the black Paladin shook his head and placed the object he had been clutching so tightly down on the floor of the vent. Color was hard to tell with the pink lights, but it looked… green. Wait - was that a piece of Pidge's jetpack? Lance traced back his memory to remember what the girl had said about her part in the Galra infiltration, but he had just come out of the healing pods and the memory was a little blurry. He looked up to Shiro, but the leader of the Paladins was looking at him now, focus on the object distinctly closed.

"Tell me more about Garrison," he said. "Were you always late for class?"

"Uh…"

"Yes," Hunk said, able to switch topics with more practiced ease. "He always made me late, too."

"Why?"

"Usually because he was trying to chat up some girl or show off to some guy."

"I did _not_!"

Shiro leveled a Look so perfect it was like the last fifteen minutes hadn't happened at all, and Lance squirmed.

"Only reason he got it was because Keith dropped out," Hunk supplied, sitting up and studying what looked like a wire. "Was determined to show everyone _he_ was actually the best."

" _Hunk!_ "

"What?" the traitor said, looking up from his work and shrugging his shoulders. "You told me that like every night at lights out, it's not like it was some kind of secret."

"It wasn't like _that_ …!"

Shiro was smiling again, sitting cross-legged in some random vent and hunched over, elbows on knees. "What about the simulations?" he asked. "Hunk said Iverson made an example of you?"

"It wasn't _my_ fault Pidge couldn't reach the overhead switches or Hunk had no stomach to speak of!"

"Hey!"

"Okay," Shiro said simply, forestalling any argument with his bland acceptance. "Fine. Pidge and Hunk had problems. What did you do for them? Or were you too busy trying to impress the instructors with your flying skills?"

Lance had about four things he could say, but Shiro had hit the nail on the head a little too hard, and he struggled to find a decent counter argument.

Hunk, once again, blithely thought to add his two cents. "He looked out for Pidge," he said, "We all thought she was a he back then, and he was just so short and so young, and had a chip on his shoulder about the Kerberos mission every time anyone even said a word. Lance got in the habit of covering his mouth when he got started, and tried to direct attention away from him. You know, now that I think about it, I think he tried to drag Pidge along when he made me sneak off base with him. We were looking for him when you crashed on earth. In fact, that was why we even knew you had crashed."

Lance squirmed again, uncertain how Shiro was going to take any of this - that he snuck off base regularly, that he tried to get others in trouble, that he wasn't where he was supposed to be when Shiro crashed. He wanted to defend himself but didn't _quite_ know how (aside the obvious option to blame Keith, but that was neither here nor there), and while he would _never_ admit it he understood that he was usually responsible for the trouble they got into at Garrison. Wincing, he threw his eyes back to Shiro and waited for the worst.

Shiro said nothing, however, just rubbed his chin, thinking, a soft, "... interesting…" escaping out of his mouth.

Finally, he looked up. "Well, that gives me something to work on. I'll check in with Pidge and Keith, you two keep working and let either me or Coran know when you're ready to come out of the vents."

"Will do, Shiro," Hunk said.

Shiro nodded, reached down and took Pidge's green jetpack and started to turn. "Oh, and Hunk," he added, almost but not quite an afterthought. "Make Lance help you. It will prevent his boredom."

" _What?_ "

"Okay."

* * *

Keith decided that actually getting to know Pidge, having actual conversations with her about her work, was, sadly, going to be a necessary thing.

He preferred to work alone, and now he was with a team to form the universe's most deadly weapon, he understood that some level of connection was required. Having spoken with Shiro early that morning when everyone else was asleep, he acknowledged that he needed to put in more of an effort.

That effort was now necessity for the other arm of Voltron.

Keith was not a dumb person. Galaxy Garrison only took the best and the best and the brightest. Every person who applied to the Garrison was the top of their class, the honor valedictorians. Even Lance - who never _once_ acted like it - must have been the best of all Cuba. Keith knew the numbers, had taken all three calculus' before entering Garrison, knew analytic geometry and physics. He understood how valued intelligence was. Just because he could do the work, however, didn't mean he _enjoyed_ it. His true pleasure was in the sky, making spur of the moment decisions, letting the feel of the shuttle - of the _Lion_ \- inform him just as much as variables and tangents and trajectories. He was smart. His intelligence was in other places, but he was _smart_.

But if he ever hoped to keep up with Pidge enough to be able to predict her moves, to understand her methods of thinking, he'd need to know what projects had attracted her attention, and how her brain flitted from one thought to another.

Having spent the past few hours together, it was apparent that she was a genius. That was obvious whenever one listened to her spout about anything, let alone the fact that she had grasped the basics of _alien technology_ enough to understand and then _modify_ it. Keith vaguely wondered how many sleepless nights had taken place to understand the invisibility maze and to then _install it in her Lion_.

The mind truly boggled.

And after having spent so many hours glaring at a computer screen, typing along with her on the laptop, and offering his own suggestions for the coding… well…. He knew he was outclassed.

Every time he thought he had a grasp of what she was doing, the details would throw him for a loop. It was frustrating. Pidge was mostly patient, but it was clear that she was used to working with Hunk who had a better hope of understanding what she was talking about with three-state systems, trinary variables, and elemental minerals that didn't even exist in concept back on earth and their conductivity.

"No, link the global parameters to the local variables," Pidge scowled, the hours of working together clearly pushing her patience.

Keith's eye twitched. They still had an afternoon and evening of this ahead of them. Forget the previous day, there was no way Keith was coding into the night like Pidge normally would. That would be suicide.

"We need a break," he finally said.

"But we're so close! Just a few more procedures and we might finally crack-"

" _Pidge_ ," Keith hissed, leaning back and pulling their shared arm with him. "We _need_ a break. Before _I_ break."

"Ah… oh," the green Paladin had the grace to look abashed. "Sorry," she muttered.

Keith let out a long sigh and used his free hand to rub at his eyes. "Sorry," he mumbled back. All this analysis and problem solving to just get _one_ line of code right was so repetitive and there was so little progress…

Pidge also let out a long breath and leaned back in her chair. "Really, sorry," she said softly. "Looking at all this data, coding around it. It must be hard."

"I just can't keep pace with you," he admitted very, very quietly. "I get what you're going for, but all the little pieces…"

She nodded. "We'll do something different for the afternoon," she replied. "I'll think of what after we eat lunch. Think Hunk's done cooking yet?"

Keith may have let out an unpleasant work. "We're supposed to get lunch, remember?" he growled.

Her wince was subtle, but Keith caught it. He took it as improvement that he could even see that. He wouldn't have previously.

"Can't Shiro-"

" _No_ ," Keith replied firmly. "Just…. _No_."

Her expression was dubious, but she didn't question it. Keith was grateful. The less said about _that_ the better. "Come on. We need to figure out what is what in the kitchen and then how to cook it. It's either that or space goop."

"No thanks," Pidge replied, standing and walking with him. "I'll take that goop in a pinch, but Hunk cooking with fresh ingredients, no matter how bizarre is always the better option."

Keith nodded. "Think he's labeled anything for us to be able to figure out?" She would know better than him.

Pidge's eyes narrowed before she let out a defeated breath. "Probably not. He's very protective of his domains."

"We'll just have to wing it then."

But Pidge was already turning back to her lab. "Maybe if we get some instruments, we can look at the molecular structure of some of the ingredients," she said, ideas clearly already starting to generate. "Compare with the minerals that make food sweet or salty or sour… Then we can mix them?"

"No," Keith said firmly, tugging at their joined hands. "We've already done enough coding. That kind of device would require more hours, and we're both _starving_."

"Fine, fine," she grumbled. "I doubt anything we can cook will be any better than whatever Shiro or Coran could make."

Keith doubted that from the very bottom of his soul. He held back a shudder.

"Leave the cooking to me," he offered. "If you can help me with slicing and dicing, I can probably cobble together something at least palatable."

Pidge returned to her dubious look.

Keith rolled his eyes. "I've been living on my own for _years_. Even before the Garrison. I know the basics of cooking, and beyond just opening a box of something."

Living in the desert, after all, meant that he couldn't always get into town for supplies. He'd buy in bulk to store in his freezer and he could handle cooking from that.

Once in the kitchen, they both started opening cabinets and looking to see what was even available. Pidge offered a flat-eyed look. "Well, on the plus side, Hunk was smart enough to actually label everything."

Keith nodded, an eye twitching in irritation.

"On the minus side, it's not labeled in English."

Deep breath, breathe out. Keith took another deep breath and breathed out. He was _really_ near the end of his patience and he wasn't sure how much more of this he could take.

"Alright," he grumbled. "Let's start opening containers. Let me smell them."

Pidge was already muttering about analysis and how to determine what ingredient might go with what. And that made sense. It was how she viewed the world, in zeros and ones, in base components and systems. There was something to be said about that. There was value in stepping back three or four paces from a problem to see the big picture and there was value in zooming in with a magnifying glass to better understand how everything ticked. Having that baseline always made decisions more informed.

He quietly worked with her to cut vegetables that smelled like something Hunk had made before and then he carefully looked at and smelled the various meats to their selection.

Looking at how Pidge worked that way, Keith sort of envied her. While she may not always make the best decisions, she always had a clear train of logic and analysis to get there. Keith had to admit, even if only to himself, that while he was good with instinct, sometimes his instinct didn't have enough baseline knowledge. Looking back on some of his decisions, especially after his father had died, he couldn't help but wonder if he had known more if his instincts would have guided him somewhere else.

Instinct could only work as well as what the instinct was based on, wasn't it?

So Keith might be the best when it came to having good instincts, but perhaps he could improve his instincts further by just having a larger knowledge base.

Something to consider, certainly.

Keith set up the cook top and slowly added first the meat, which he watched till it was browning, then had Pidge help him add what he assumed to be vegetables. Pidge held the pan in place, while Keith just focused on stirring.

"Are you sure about these ingredients?" she asked. "I don't know if these go together or not. They're completely unfamiliar, and Hunk didn't even write anything down in a way we can understand!"

"It'll be fine," Keith replied.

"But how do you know that?"

"The smell."

Pidge actually paused. "The… smell?" she asked with a small level of incredulity.

"Does it smell good?" Keith asked.

"Well, yes, but-"

"Then we're doing fine."

"But that doesn't make any sense! How are we supposed to know if it's safe or not? If it's poisonous or not? If it's overcooked or undercooked? Or if there's too much seasoning or not enough?"

"Pidge, are you _expecting_ me to be a gourmand?"

The green Paladin haltered her rant. "Well, no, but…."

Keith let out a low sigh. "Pidge, trust me."

She scowled, but stopped questioning everything he did. _Finally_. In this, at least, he trusted his instincts. He trusted that he would know what would smell good and what would smell bad. He trusted that Hunk kept the kitchen filled with palatable things and anything not labeled by the mechanic and instead by, say Coran, was to be treated as highly suspect. It may not have the absolute best combination of flavors to suit a trained palate, but it would be better than nothing or whatever Coran could cook and far and away better than anything Shiro could cook.

"Ready to dish out."

"I guess," she replied sullenly, but dutifully lifted the pan so that he could slowly dish out his sort-of-stir-fry to seven different plates. It was a little awkward, and the plates didn't exactly look pretty, but it smelled good which was enough for Keith.

"Water to drink?"

"Oh yes," she replied. " _That_ I can trust."

Glasses of water and flatware were gotten and the two sat down.

"It does smell good," Pidge said softly as Hunk and Lance tripped in to eat.

Keith only nodded, eyes on the hall when he noticed Shiro. He always was aware of Shiro, after all. There was a tightness around Shiro's eyes that Keith didn't like, but as he watched, they were relaxing. He must have had some sort of episode, but was getting better. Keith frowned.

His left arm was yanked more firmly.

"Hm?" he looked to Pidge who had clearly still been talking to him. "Sorry," he mumbled, glancing down.

Pidge narrowed her eyes at him, then glanced to where Keith had been watching and saw Shiro come in. She relaxed and nodded. "I get it," she said softly. "We all look out for him."

"I know. It's just…." He couldn't explain it. He'd known Shiro longer, Shiro was the only family that Keith really had left, he would _always_ be aware of Shiro now that he had him back _because_ of that. He wanted to be there for Shiro as Shiro had been there for him and when he couldn't, he just felt…. That Pidge dealt with his night terrors instead of him….

Pidge's shoulder nudged him. "It's okay," she said softly. And it had to be softly to him since Lance was already dominating conversation as they all sat down and Coran escorted Princess Allura in to eat. "We all fill in the gaps. We all watch and help. But you were there first and that won't ever change."

The corner of Keith's lips twitched to a smile. "Right."

"Well at least Hunk and I don't have to feed each other like _some_ people!" Lance was proclaiming.

Well, Keith decided that needed a proper retort. "At least we can walk."

"Hey!"

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Certain Voltron characters we love, other's we're apathetic to and don't see the appeal of. Having said that though, we always try to respect all the characters and give them their due. Lance's archtype has never and will never hit our buttons the way Shiro, Pidge, and Keith do, but we understand he is somehow popular and have done what we can to give him fair representation in the fic. He was shown to be honestly sensitive in later seasons so we used that do our advantage here.

Keith meanwhile starts to show where his specialty lies versus Pidge. The two of them have the most emotional hangups to work through while Lance and Hunk ultimately need to get their heads in the game, and it makes for an interesting dynamic and way to play off of each other.

Also, note Shiro's episode. We do have an episode this fic is supposed to precede and we have to build up to it. Ergo fixing the vents from Pidge's "Die Hard in SPACE" and studying the Galra crystal that was left behind, and Shiro... well. More on that later.

Also, Allura and Coran had moments. Allura in particular will get more later, but they both tend to fade in the background when the Paladin's are underfoot. More on them later as well.

As always, let us know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

**Part Three**

"Wow, you guys did good. Like, really good - I mean not as good as me but I understand I'm like the only gourmand here - but this is actually not that bad."

"Hunk, just shut up and go back to eating."

"But I'm trying to compliment them!"

"Not 'them,' just him," Pidge corrected, jerking her fork over to Keith. "He just used his nose."

Lance's face contorted into a mess trying to hold back a smirk. Pidge had long ago predicted the lame puns or jokes he would spew, and decided to head it off. "Just remember that Shiro is right here," she said, carefully paying no attention as Lance backpedaled before he even said anything and threw a glance at the Black Paladin. Keith did the same, and Pidge wondered what that was about, but Shiro looked like he always did: collected, focused, and eating his own food. Did she miss something? She didn't see the tightness around his eyes, but then it wasn't stupid o'clock in the morning.

"My compliments," Allura said, more awake than Pidge had seen her since healing the Balmera. "I didn't know these all went together so well."

"Very pleasing," Coran agreed, bits of alien stir fry in his moustache. He twirled one end of the orange tuft of hair and it all - somehow - disappeared. Pidge had stopped trying to figure out Altean hair a long time ago - though she still ran the odd simulation of how thick Allura's hair really was given how tightly bound it could be. She wondered if there was an alien version of volumizer to make it work.

"It's good to see you up and about," Hunk said to the princess. "It's been forever."

"Yes, I know; I'm sorry to have worried you all," Allura said, princess voice in full swing. "I'm doing much better. I hope to walk about this afternoon, perhaps visit my father."

"... Your father?" Pidge asked, a little confused. Then her brain caught up with her. "Oh, you mean the hologram."

"It's not just a hologram," Coran correct. "It's King Alfor's very essence, crystallized and preserved for future generations. His entire consciousness is available to access and act as counsel. Why, it might as well _be_ King Alfor!"

… Uh-huh. Still a hologram, as far as Pidge was concerned. But the idea of a computer - Altean or otherwise - copying an entire person's psyche was interesting. Artificial intelligence software only got so far, even the deep learning machines she had studied before Garrison. A part of her mind partitioned off to call up the theory and wondering how the crystal technology the Altean's employed worked with something as complicated as neural pathways and chemical reactions - how was that mimicked in a crystal? The side project kept her occupied as everyone ate, and when her plate was finished she looked up to see the the royals had already left.

"So Keith," Shiro said after swallowing his most recent mouthful and oblivious to the two looks. "Tell me one thing about Pidge that you learned today."

Everybody blinked, and Lance of course had something to say. "What is this, elementary school? Do we get story time, too?"

Shiro leveled the Blue Paladin a raised eyebrow, but Keith was of course ignoring all of it and answering the question. "She's a genius among geniuses," he said without even batting an eye.

Everyone - including Pidge - turned to stare at him. Except of course Shiro who gave a good-natured laugh. "What else?"

"That she takes on a crazy amount of work compared to the rest of us."

Shiro nodded, letting that sink in with the others before turning to Hunk. "And you?" he asked.

"Uh, I kind of already knew she was a genius," Hunk said, "It's everything I can do to keep up with her sometimes."

"No," Shiro said. "What was one thing you learned about Lance so far?"

Hunk blinked for a moment, quieting as he tried to think. Lance was already posing, rubbing his chin and letting his teeth shine. "That I'm amazingly handsome and incredibly charming? Wait you should already know that…"

"That it's even more a mystery that you got into Galaxy Garrison?" Keith supplied under his breath.

" _I heard that!_ "

"... That Lance can be really sensitive," Hunk said. "You know, when he wants to be." Pidge saw Keith's blatant incredulity and Lance's genuine surprise, and once again Shiro's _un_ surprise. Geez, how did he know so much about everyone already? They hadn't been together all that long, and between battles and projects they hardly had time to even talk to each other sometimes.

Shiro had moved on again, and Pidge squirmed as she tried to think of a good answer when his eyes slid over to Lance.

"Lance? Name one thing you've learned about Hunk."

Said Paladin crossed his arms and shrugged his shoulder. "Nothing special."

Pidge hid her head in her hands. "I agree with Keith," she muttered, " _how did you ever get into the Garrison_?"

"Don't look at me like that!" Lance shouted back. "I've been rooming with the big guy since the first day! I already know everything about him!"

"How could you possibly know _everything_ after only three months together?"

"I know more than you!"

"Are you seriously asking that question?" Pidge demanded. "What are we, in second grade?"

"Well _you_ certainly look like you _should_ be!"

That stung, but Pidge hid it well enough, and before she could retort with… something... Shiro cut them off with a firm, "That's enough! Pidge, you shouldn't antagonize Lance like that; Lance, you don't need to be defensive with anyone on this team. We're in this together and we have to trust each other. That's the whole point of this exercise. Now, tell us something you learned about Hunk today."

Pidge was still grumbling, looking down at her plate as her free hand started to ball into a fist. Her other jerked without her input and she looked up to Keith, who simply gave her a look. Was that… supposed to mean something? She wasn't sure what. He bumped his knee with hers, and somewhere a muscle in her back relaxed.

"... I learned Hunk keeps perfect time…" Lance mumbled, barely audible. It was enough to get a smile from Shiro, however, and he then turned to a certain Green Paladin.

"Pidge?"

She was mature enough to admit she squirmed a bit in her seat. She threw a glance at Keith, hoping for a hint and embarrassed that he was getting so much out of this exercise and she hadn't. It wasn't that she didn't understand of the value of the lesson, and it wasn't that she wasn't trying, it was just… Keith was hard to read. She didn't get him. Moreover, for the last two days she had been working on her projects - and that had taken up all of her attention. She… she hadn't actually worked _with_ Keith; instead she had dragged him along or worked around him. She was still failing the test, in some respects, and she really wasn't used to failure. Frantically she wracked her brain to come up with something, but the best she could come up with was,

"... He has a good sense of smell..."

That sounded so _bad_ , she winced, curled into herself, shamed that she was doing so poorly.

Instead: "That's impressive."

She looked up, and Shiro had that gentle look on his face, the one that was encouraging and soft and echoed her mother. Why would he be proud of that? She had no idea. She glanced at Keith for a hint, but the Red Paladin was stoic as always, not giving anything away. Lance had another look on his face, and she knew something stupid was about to fall out of his mouth but, once again, Shiro cut him off.

"Not everyone knows that about Keith. Good job, Pidge."

"R-really?" she asked, incredulous. That made no sense.

"Everybody has learned something about their partner. That's more than yesterday, and I learned a lot about how some of us work together. I'll still help Hunk and Lance in the vents, maneuvering in there is difficult with their legs tied up. Tomorrow we switch chore responsibilities, and I expect everyone to learn even more about their partners as they learn to work together."

"If you say so…" Lance muttered, taking a forkful of the stir fry and stuffing it into his mouth.

After lunch everyone got up to disperse, Pidge made Keith stall a little by taking care of the dishes. She still wasn't sure what to do for the afternoon - her biggest project was trying to understand that Galra crystal from the castle invasion, but that was computer work. Even the hands-on work - building a wire that would interface with the crystal - was so problem-solving intensive she wouldn't be focused on Keith. How _could_ she focus on Keith, anyway?

Said partner was saying nothing, content to let Pidge ponder, but as they stepped outside the tall, broad frame of Shiro stopped them.

"I thought you were helping Lance and Hunk?" Keith asked.

"I am, but I saw that you needed some help so I thought we'd talk before I left."

"We're doing okay," Keith said.

Shiro shrugged his shoulders. "You are, but you always take to tasks with gusto. The one who's struggling here is Pidge."

Keith blinked rapidly twice before looking at Pidge, and the Green Paladin squirmed again.

"Pidge," Shiro said, flesh hand reaching out to grip her shoulder. "You're overthinking this. There is no right answer, some specific trait I want you to know. All I want is for the two of you to get to know each other. The better you understand each other, the better you can work together as the arms of Voltron." He tapped the cuffs binding them together. "Hands are one of the most intricate parts of the human body; so many points of articulation and ways to move that are detailed and subtle. It takes children years how to do something as complicated as writing. I'm not expecting you to do it in a few days."

Pidge eyed Keith, a little intimidated to say what she really felt with him right there.

Shiro seemed to sense her hesitation, squeezed her shoulder. "Think about something that requires his input," he said. "Maybe that will help."

He turned and left after that, moving down the hallway and turning around a corner.

"... You wanna give any input on how he does that?" she asked, tone a little harder than she meant.

"He's always been good with people," Keith answered next to her. "I don't know how."

"Maybe he should be my next project," Pidge wondered aloud, "Figure out how he's so good after being through so much."

"... I don't think he'd like that," Keith said after a beat. He was trying to cross his arms again, but only able to use one arm. "He's too busy looking out for everyone else. He wouldn't want anyone to look at him. He's always been like that."

Pidge looked up. "Really? How long have you known him? When did you meet?"

The color that rose up to Keith's cheeks and ears was the only response he gave, and Pidge had no idea how to follow up. She frowned, scratching her cheek, and sighed. "I'm not really sure what to do," she said. "If we're following my schedule then we're back to work on the Galra crystal, but I'm not really focusing on teamwork if that's the case, and it's not like I can just sit and talk to you. No offense," she added quickly, realizing how acerbic that sounded.

"None taken," Keith answered. "I've never been much of a talker."

A natural pause drew out, and Pidge wondered what else she could do. It's not like they could try flying in formation and…

Pidge straightened. "Here's a thought," she said. "I know we have bonds with our lions specifically, but is it _only_ with our lions?"

Keith blinked. "What do you mean?"

"As Paladins, can we pilot other lions?"

The question sank into Keith's head slowly, and his face slackened with the thought. "I don't know. Are the cockpits all the same?"

Pidge grinned. "Wanna find out?"

Keith's answering smirk was all she needed.

* * *

Hunk and Lance were, once more, deep in the ventilation systems of the castle. Once more, Hunk was flat on his stomach next to exposed machinery because he needed to replace the plating and fix damaged wiring behind it. At this point, after having done it all morning, it was simple. He had gotten an understanding of what wires went where and how things were supposed to look. He needed to call Coran less and less for the basics. Honestly, he didn't know what Shiro was expecting of him. Have Lance help him? When he'd finally gotten around to understanding what he needed to do? Lance was going to be bored no matter _what_ Hunk asked his help in. This wasn't Lance's thing. Lance preferred action, showing off, boisterousness. Not the quiet satisfaction of finding a problem and fixing it. Lance preferred loud and bombastic. A night on the town, music with a bass, screaming, and a lot of drums.

Now to be fair, Hunk had accepted this aspect of Lance within the first week of being roommates. The fact that Lance always tried to drag Hunk out (and into trouble) as a happy extrovert was actually sweet, in a Lance kind of way. But Hunk _liked_ quieter moments. He enjoyed being able to sit at his workshop and figure out a problem. It was why he always let Lance take the lead in any social outings he got dragged along to. Why he let Lance take the lead with the professors at the Garrison when they were teamed up. Let _Lance_ explain to anyone like Commander Iverson _why_ they were in so much trouble. Hunk would take the punishment, because ultimately, _yeah_ he did agree to go along, and then go back to his workshop.

Hunk just wasn't as loud as Lance. He didn't care for showing off or anything like that. He just enjoyed the fun of being with friends, even if that friend was dragging him everywhere in an attempt to have him get a life.

So if Lance was the one who couldn't stand this quieter problem-solving stuff, how were they supposed to work together?

"I wonder if this place is haunted."

Hunk let out a sigh. "What?"

Lance lifted his head up enough to look down to him, utter seriousness in his eyes. "I mean, this is a _castle_. Like, set up for royalty and ambassadors and entourages."

"Yeah," Hunk raised a skeptical eyebrow. "And?"

"Dude, there's only five people, two Alteans, four mice, and a Galra here in this huge space! Don't you ever see how unused parts of the castle are?"

Hunk did. A little too often. It's why he stayed in his workshop. It would be too cold and empty otherwise.

"Haunted…" Hunk drew out the syllable, just to let Lance know how ridiculous that sounded. "Really….." Skepticism dripped from his voice.

Lance actually raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you supposed to be the scaredy-cat? Frightened at your own shadow and worrying over everything until someone like me comes along to rescue you from your own imagination?"

Flat stare. "Lance, I have enough knowledge to be properly respectful and _petrified_ of all the little things that can and do go wrong in reality. You want me to be scared at the _supernatural_ now too? No thanks."

Lance actually offered his own flat stare. "We're spiritually bonded to giant mechanical space lions gallivanting around the universe in a castle powered by the living energy of an elven princess, facing off with an enemy who's been around for ten-thousand years stealing the living energy of _planets_ like the Balmera. None of this has opened your mind just a little bit?"

Hunk rolled his eyes and turned back to the plating. "Yeah it has. I now need to think about energy in a totally different way than everything we ever learned back home. It's not like we're using AC or DC currents, or ATP or anything we already know about. At least with the Lions I get that it's all about willpower. I may not get _how_ they convert willpower to whatever it is they do, but I have a foundation. The crystals and how they even handle code or programming is so far beyond what I can comprehend I get overwhelmed. But I also know that crystals can be used as focuses based on their concavity or even convex designs. All this magic is just science that hasn't been explained yet."

Lance let out an exaggerated sigh and collapsed back to the vent. "You sound just like Pidge."

"It's probably why the two of them work well together," Shiro offered, crawling down from an above access. "Mechanics and programming. Very science based fields."

"Hey Shiro," Lance greeted sullenly. "Done playing favorites?"

"Lance," Hunk muttered.

"What? He totally is! They got a do-over for today and their punishment for not doing enough yesterday was to do the cooking today! We're up here in the vents!"

"Teaching a lesson means meeting the student's needs," Shiro calmly replied as he settled into the vent. "I'll admit, I know Keith and, to a lesser extent, Pidge, better than you two. I can make those judgement calls on what they can and can't do with more confidence." Hunk glanced back and saw Shiro raise an eyebrow. "Yet I'm here in the vents with the two of you. And might I add that it's as tight a fit for me as it is for Hunk."

Hunk actually chuckled. For all that he was poked about his wide girth, Shiro was just as wide in the shoulders.

"I'm grateful!" Hunk offered lightly. "I can always appreciate the effort it takes to get into tight spaces."

"This isn't all that tight at all!"

Shiro and Hunk shared a chuckle. "Maybe not for you, Lance," Shiro said gently. "But not all of us can be as slender."

"True," Lance said airily. "My slender physique is something the ladies can always find attractive. A swimmer's bod is always sleek, lean, and desirable!"

Hunk just chuckled. Lance was being his usual exuberant self. Maybe that would keep Lance occupied while he could finish this round of conduit.

"Such confidence is certainly-" Shiro hesitated.

"Awe-inspiring? Assuring? Secure?"

"Arrogant," Hunk muttered good-naturedly. "Prideful. Compensating."

"I _heard_ that!"

Shiro and Hunk chuckled together again.

"You're all against me!" Lance sighed dramatically and collapsed back onto the ground.

"Just keeping things in perspective," Hunk replied gently.

Because what he had said was true. Lance _did_ come off as arrogant and prideful sometimes and it _was_ compensation for his insecurities. One didn't need to be a genius to figure all that out. In fact, Hunk was fairly certain that Shiro, who knew had known Lance for the shortest time, had figured that much out. Lance always pretended to be so wonderful and competent, but just like Hunk, the Blue Paladin was a big softie underneath.

Lance grumbled and shifted, not that Hunk could see. Probably crossing his arms in order to pout. Right, easily injured feelings, despite the light tone.

"Sorry, Lance," Hunk turned and offered a smaller smile. "Just good-natured teasing."

"Uh-huh," Lance uttered in dramatic angst. "It's all fine! Poke fun all you like! I'm too easy a mark!"

Right, full drama-queen mode. After Keith and Pidge needling him during lunch, the Princess awake but not paying such devout attention to any of them as she was getting more and more tired during the meal, and now both Hunk and Shiro were teasing. No wonder Lance was feeling perhaps a little put upon. Hunk couldn't really begrudge him that. But Lance just always made it so easy! And it usually rolled off him pretty well.

So Hunk let out a silent sigh and put down his tools. It was awkward and difficult, but Hunk carefully rolled onto his back and slowly pushed himself onto his elbows so that he could see a little better and eased himself up to the barely-can-sit-up-because-of-his-height-and-the-vents-not-his-girth- _quiznak_!- position.

"Seriously, Lance," Hunk offered, "I know you're bored. I promise, I'm going as fast as I can, but Pidge and Sendak did a lot of damage in here. We still have at least three more hours of work to get everything fixed again."

"I know that and I get it," Lance grumbled. "Just stop picking on me, all of you!"

Right. Let the drama-queen sulk. So Hunk nodded and gratefully fell to his back and then rolled back over to his stomach. Tools back in hand, he got to work. Hunk expected Shiro to start up conversation again, but they all stayed quiet for a while, which was fine for Hunk as he got a lot of work done on that panel. Shiro occasionally passed tools to Hunk over Lance as needed while Lance continued in his sulk, pulling it out to glorious degree because he knew he was surrounded and he decided to milk it for all it was worth. Hunk couldn't quite hold back a chuckle when he realized that by being so silent and sulky, Lance was getting all the attention he wanted as Hunk and Shiro kept glancing at him to see if he was out of his funk yet.

Hunk hadn't seen Lance milking a sulk like this since Iverson had pulled them both aside for a tongue-lashing that wasn't either of their fault, and Lance laid the sulk on the true perpetrator for almost a month. It was another game to keep Lance occupied while being literally chained to Hunk up in the vents. So Hunk played along. Kept the "worried" glances to Lance when Lance seemed like he wasn't looking, and occasionally verbally checking in to continue to reaffirm Lance's drama-queen tendencies.

Shiro was watching the byplay, clearly learning something, but that was Shiro.

"Okay, off to the next bit of damage," Hunk carefully shuffled up to his knees and turned let his head fall so he could look, albeit upside-down, to the others. "Lance? Ready for timing?"

There were more dramatic grumbles as the Blue Paladin got ready to crab-walk in time with Hunk and crawling and Hunk was _sure_ he saw a wry grin flash across Shiro's face. Good to know Lance's drama-queen play was entertaining all of them to some degree. "On three."

And they were off keeping to Hunk's pace. This was the hardest part of the day. Getting from one patch job to another. A lot of the vents that Pidge used were too small, some even for Lance, and they had to take the long way around. Corners were difficult, anything that involved climbing up a level was arduous, and Hunk making sure he was keeping good time for Lance to move with him was tedious. What was even worse was that the damage that was left to fix was the most spread out. They had just finished the last of the panels that had been where most of Pidge's embattled scramble had happened and now came random encounters before Pidge had darted another way that couldn't be followed.

It took almost an hour and a half to get to the next damaged panel. And there were two more after this.

Lance was already settling in to his dramatic sulk and Shiro was setting up the tool box to pass Hunk whatever he needed.

" _Uh, Shiro?_ " Pidge came over the comms sounding hesitant in a way that indicated that there might be a tad of trouble the size of a planet about to come down around them.

Shiro's amusement fell away quickly to all-business. "What is it?" he asked, looking away from Lance and Hunk. Both Paladins looked up, their own drama-queen play forgotten.

" _Uh, we might have a small situation here_."

" _We can handle it, Shiro,_ " Keith growled over the comm. " _You're busy. Stay put. We'll figure this out_."

A loud, distinctly mechanical growl echoed over the comms.

"Was that a _Lion_ sounding upset?" Lance asked with narrow-eyed incredulity. "What in the entire universe are those two doing to get one of the _Lion's_ upset?"

" _Back off,_ " Keith growled back. " _We got this._ "

" _Uh, no, Keith, we kinda don't_ ," Pidge hissed back.

"Just stay put," Shiro replied sternly, "I'm on my way."

Hunk shrunk back as Shiro carefully turned and then crawled with all possible speed back the way they had come, Coran already on the comms and giving directions to the nearest exit so that Shiro could get to the others with more speed.

"Huh," Lance blinked back at Hunk, eyes wide in surprise. "Wonder what those two did."

"I'm not sure I want to find out."

Lance fell back. "Spoilsport."

"Yup," Hunk agreed, pulling off the panel. "Can you pass me the-"

"Here you go," Lance handed him the exact right tool. Hunk smiled. They _had_ been doing this all day. It would only make sense that Lance had a basic understanding of what tool was needed in what order. So Hunk easily went back to work. It didn't take long to finish this panel, as it was more of a glancing blow, especially compared to others that he'd had to repair over the course of the day.

"Thanks, buddy."

"No problem."

They were quiet again, though this time without Lance's playful drama-queen sulk. The repair was done inside of fifteen minutes. Perfect.

"Okay, Lance, we're ready for the next spot."

"Yeah, yeah," Lance sighed, getting up for his crab walk. Hunk only nodded and started his perfect time.

There was still no word with Shiro, so Hunk could only assume that the others had done something monumentally stupid or Shiro was yelling at them. That was fine. He and Lance had found a rhythm with moving through the vents, so things were going at least nominally better than they had that morning.

They were halfway to the next piece of damaged conduit. Hunk, still keeping time, was crawling over a vent when the weight of his knee made a panel give way, sending his whole leg down the shaft. Caught unawares, Hunk yelped and let go of the toolbox as he scrambled for purchase on the smooth white walls. Of course, since he lost his rhythm and Lance was surprised as well, their legs soon became tangled, throwing off Hunk's balance and suddenly they were both tumbling down a shaft with no coordination and plenty of screaming and bumping into each other.

Suddenly they were in open air and Hunk couldn't quite stop screaming all the louder as they were over a massively huge domed room with catwalks leading to a central platform encircling something Hunk couldn't study because _falling_!

"Grab the rail!"

"What?" Hunk looked around, Lance's shout bringing him back to his senses. Oh, they were over one of the catwalks - quick! Grab a rail or a ledge or _something_! Hunk reached out, knowing it fell to him since he was the taller and stronger. Reach! Come on, reach!

Hunk wrapped his hands around the posts of the railing, bracing his forearms against them as the rail slammed up to his armpits. The impact alone was jarring, but a second later his trunk hit the rail and Lance's weight pulled at his legs. But it wasn't the heavy yank he was expecting. Instead his legs kept swinging, one still weighted by Lance, under the catwalk and Hunk watched in confusion as Lance's hands appeared on the other side of the catwalk and grabbed on for dear life.

Just like that, it was over.

Over.

Hunk let out an explosive breath. Panting turned to giggles, then laughter, because what else could he do? Lance was saying something in Spanish, thanking God Hunk could understand, the rest just random noises to his ears as he couldn't think enough to try and translate. Then Lance was laughing too.

"Oh, thank God," Hunk finally said. "Okay. Okay, how do we-"

" _Are you two alright_?" came Shiro's concerned voice over the comms. " _Hunk, Lance, can you hear me?_ "

Lance laughed. "Oh we're just _fine_!" he replied. "Nothing like a life-threatening fall through unknown HVAC units into a giant open - where are we anyway?"

Hunk finally looked around. "Engine room I think."

"Engines? That's a crystal."

" _It's the finest in Altean technology and Balmeran crystals!_ " Coran replied haughtily.

"It's confusing is what it is!" Lance shot back.

" _Are you okay?_ " Shiro repeated.

"Peachy," Lance retorted. Hunk couldn't blame him for the sarcasm after a scare like that.

"We're fine, Shiro," Hunk added. "Probably be a little sore in the morning." Especially once the adrenaline wore off and then he could feel the aches he _knew_ he was going to have.

"We most certainly are _not_ fine!" Lance shouted. "I'm barely holding on by my fingernails! We can't hold on like this forever! How do we even get on the catwalk from here?"

"Uhhh…"

"Exactly!"

" _You can do it,_ " Shiro replied. " _I'm on my way, but it will take a while._ "

"A _while_?"

"Why?"

Pidge's voice laughed softly. " _We're kinda accross the galaxy at the moment._ "

Both Lance and Hunk, in perfect rhythm and tone, offered an incredulous, " _Huh_?"

" _I'll also arrive when I can, Paladins!_ " Coran offered with his usual enthusiastic flair. " _I'm just… occupied at the moment…._ "

"Occupied _how_?" Lance demanded.

" _I may… be stuck… in an ionic telechlorian bindlelum… from cleaning it out…_ "

"What does that even mean?" Lance shouted.

" _That I might be a varga or so…._ "

Lance groaned and Hunk was right there with him.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Now children, what did we learn today :P ? Shiro is second best space dad after Kanan Jarrus from Star Wars Rebels. As we wrap up the halfway point of the fic it was time for everyone to reflect even briefly on the intended lesson and how far they had come. Hunk and Keith are the most intuitive and learned the most, Pidge learns she doesn't have everything in hand, and Lance will probably always be a little obtuse about things like this because they aren't organic - as the team natural, he picks things up when they occur naturally, not in a constructed environment. If the environment is constructed he thinks he's supposed to act a certain way and as a result he's not acting himself. Lance is at his best in small, sincere moments - most obviously in the season 5 moments with Allura that dropped earlier this week. When he's not showboating he's actually kind of sweet, and now he has Shiro's mystery and... well.

Season 5, yeah. Pidge, girl, you and Matt go through too much. And Keith, stop hiding in the background, we want more episodes devoted to you - get your derriere back on the team! And Shiro... stop. Just stop.

So, what CATastrophe did Pidge and Keith cause? How will Lance and Hunk keep from falling to their deaths? Will Shiro have a good or bad day? Next week!

Side note, our beta of many years, Tenshi, has not finish beta'ing this fic. Wait time between chapters have stretched out to months and so the second half of this fic will go up raw and unbeta'ed. Please keep that in mind as all our spelling and grammar mistakes become more obvious.


	4. Chapter 4

**Part Four**

To be clear, this was all Pidge's idea, but Keith wasn't above admitting that the idea of piloting more than one lion had its appeal: if someone were critically injured or there was no other lion nearby, the idea of anyone being able to step into a lion to pilot was pragmatic to the point of essential. On reflection, the idea seemed obvious - pilots could conceivably pilot any spacecraft because of their uniformity, it only made sense that the lions might be slightly similar.

Lance's lion was first, by Pidge's hypothesis, because it had communicated pictures to all of the paladins, and by that thought might be the most open to the idea of having someone else pilot it. Keith had asked if Pidge remembered if the cockpit was the same as their lions, but their first trip in Blue had been an uncomfortable, nauseating blur, and neither could remember clearly.

The secondary theory was that Keith, who had been able to sense the blue lion, might be the one most likely for Blue to let pilot. Keith still couldn't quite understand why he had been the only one to sense the lions.

"Well," Pidge said as they entered Blue's bay, "it's still just a working hypothesis, but I couldn't sense my lion until I was practically on top of it, and Hunk said he didn't know he was on the right track until he saw the cave paintings, and Shiro couldn't sense the black lion until it's shield was down. You not only sensed Blue but were able to find Red on a Galra ship - clearly your senses are more finely tuned, for whatever reason, to communicate with the lions."

That had surprised Keith - he hadn't known any of that.

… But then, he didn't exactly socialize, either. He winced, realizing another layer of Shiro's lesson.

Blue hadn't even sniffed at Keith when Pidge explained the idea to a silent lion, and didn't open up in the slightest. That had been disappointing, but then Lance hadn't been there, so perhaps that was the reason…? Still with Blue out of the picture the pair had brainstormed on which lion would be the most pliable.

"I think Green would be the best option," Pidge decided finally. "The green lion is supposed to be inquisitive, like me, so she might like the idea of the experiment."

Keith, after Blue's dismissal, was becoming more dubious. "I'm starting to wonder if this is a good idea," he said.

"Why not? It'll be fine, what could possibly go wrong? The worst case scenario is that Green doesn't open up like Blue - no harm, no foul."

And… Keith trusted Pidge. He had already learned the girl was brilliant beyond measure, and what she said made sense on a couple of levels, and he could admit curiosity. They entered Green's bay, however, and the uneasiness crawled over him again, discomfort washing over his body and creeping him out. He shook the feeling off, uncertain where it had come from, and followed Pidge as she started babbling at her lion.

"... And so that's my running hypothesis. What do you think, girl? Do you want to open up?"

Keith could feel the curiosity burning off of Pidge; his wrist was run ragged with all of her happy flailing at the idea of a new theory, and a part of him wasn't comfortable with the experience, a shiver ran down him but he forced himself to concentrate, to look up to Green and try and look as interested as he felt.

The green Lion bent her head down, head slightly tilted in curiosity, and Keith lifted his hand up, thinking vaguely of letting her scent him. Did the lions even have a sense of smell…? Discomfort washed over him again, and he realized that it wasn't his own. Red…?

He closed his eyes, turning inward, thinking about the plan, the experiment. Red was sending him a picture of… something, he wasn't sure what. Meanwhile a new energy was washing over him, intelligence, curiosity, excitement. He let that one guide him, knowing it was the Green lion saying hello. Keith had never tried to connect to two lions at once, had never felt two lions at once, and he thought his head was starting to throb before he heard a roar. His eyes snapped open but Pidge was just looking at him curiously, head tilted at the exact same angle as her lions.

"What is it?" she asked. "You were frowning so fiercely…"

How to explain it…?

"Red doesn't like this," he said finally, spreading his free hand helplessly.

"Oh," Pidge said, blinking twice. "I hadn't considered that." Her own free hand moved up to finger her chin, the familiar expression of rapid thought blooming on her face. Green retreated, sitting back up straight, and Keith almost thought there was a grin on the metal lion's muzzle.

"Oh!" Pidge said, more firmly this time, "What if we invited Red in on the experiment. We can get Red in here to ensure everything goes smoothly. The Red lion is supposed to be really protective right, that should help mitigate the concern."

That… actually made sense. Keith nodded and they turned immediately to leave Pidge's hanger and go into his. Almost as soon as he turned his back on Green he felt a relief of pressure, and he frowned, put out that Red had affected him so much. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, or rather his free hand when he remembered the cuff to Pidge, and hunched his shoulders slightly as he realized how put out this all was.

"You know, it doesn't work as well when one of your hands is free," Pidge said carefully.

"What doesn't?"

"The whole mopey-emo-loner thing," Pidge replied. "You can't pose as well when one of your hands is bound."

… What? "I'm _not_ posing," Keith said, turning away.

Pidge simply shrugged her shoulders. "If you say so. It's not like I had to spend a lot of time studying how to be a guy or anything."

…

"Yeah, well, you don't always do a good job at acting like a know-it-all."

Pidge was, of course, unaffected. "I don't try to _act_ a know-it-all," she countered, "I kind of _am_ one, or at least I had to be in order to find my family, but I don't _have_ to be one here. That took me a while to figure out, you know? That it was okay to relax and let everyone else chip in."

"And, what?" Keith asked. "I don't have to be a… a mopey-emo…?"

"Mopey-emo-loner," Pidge repeated.

Keith turned away. "I am _not_."

Pidge looked at him for a long second, Keith could see it out of the corner of his eye; but she just turned and focused on where they were going. Keith had a brief thought that there was meaning in her turning away, but he had no functioning idea of where to even _start_ interpreting something as simple a a head-turn and just focused on walking himself.

Red didn't move when they entered his bay, but he did open up for Keith and Pidge and they moved into the pilot chair.

"Woah, it really is the same layout," Pidge said, moving around the back of the seat as Keith positioned himself. "Is this the port for the bayard? Neat!"

"Don't touch anything," Keith said. "We don't know how Red will handle it, remember? The whole point was to get to the same bay with Green to watch and make sure everything goes fine and-" He turned and saw Pidge had already opened up a console and was rifling through menus. What…?! "What are you doing?" he demanded, swatting her hand away.

"Sorry!" Pidge said quickly, lifting both hands up and jerking his arm away from the controls. "I was just curious!"

Keith… decided not to say anything, just powered up Red and exited the castle, taking a quick arc up and over the spires to Green's port. Pidge was giving an almost nonstop litany of words, and it was starting to wash over him the way her coding did, and he landed before he glazed over completely. They exited Red's mouth and Pidge was still talking.

"... And Red not only let me in but also didn't seem to have a problem with me being in the cockpit while you were flying and even let me rifle through a few menus so I think things should go really smooth with you and this is really exciting think of all the things we could do if the pilots are interchangeable like that and-!"

"I get it," Keith said quickly, before all her happy words morphed into another experiment. He ran his hand affectionately over the controls, and he could imagine he felt a response in kind. Standing, he lead Pidge out of the lion and for a moment just stood between the two arms of Voltron, looking up at them. These were the lions who defended Shiro, kept enemy weapons and beams and destruction at bay. If he could control either arm… that would give him an added sense of security.

He nodded, mind settled on the task for more than just idle curiosity or pragmatism, and he turned to Pidge. The girl was looking up at him again, face open, questions reflecting off her glasses. "Are… you okay?" she asked slowly.

"Yes," Keith replied firmly. "Let's see what we can do."

Green was staring at him again, head tilted before curling down and opening up. Pidge patted the lining of her maw and talking to her affectionately under her breath.

The lighting was different, of course, Keith's a subtle, warm red and Pidge's lion was a cool, calming green. Pidge's eyes looked more gold than brown in the light and she swiveled into the seat of the cockpit. Keith looked at her in confusion.

"Sorry," she said, fond smile on her lips. "Habit. I guess, now that we're actually doing this… I'm a little nervous to let her go."

So Pidge could feel Green's energy, too, whether she knew it or not. The Red Paladin nodded, giving her time, but Pidge eventually relinquished her seat and Keith sat in it. He just sat at first, eyes darting over the console, noting how perfect a copy it was visually, but how it subtly felt different. Red was in the back of his mind - now that he recognized what to look for he could pick it out quicker. He tried to find a new sensation, tried to find Green. He reached out to touch the console finally, eyes heavily lidded as he reached out.

Red growled and Pidge physically flinched the moment he touched the console. Both reactions made Keith wince and his fluttering connection disappeared. "What?" he asked, at who he wasn't sure.

"Sorry," Pidge said. "Red kind of startled me." She shook her head, straightening and shaking it off. "What did it feel like?"

Keith shrugged, trying to find the right words. "It's like there's a separate piece in my own head. That's Red, and sometimes I feel things that aren't me. Red's really nervous about this, I think, and that's why it's hard for me to feel Green. What does she feel like?" That last question was more curiosity than anything else, he wanted to know if Pidge realized her own emotions were affected by her lion.

But, scientific as she was, she wasn't completely connected to how her own feelings worked. She shrugged, asking, "How should I know? I don't feel the lions the way you do."

That meant this fell completely on his shoulders. Keith was the only one who could parse what was going on. He frowned in determination, set his jaw, and tried again: looked into himself, searching for the part that wasn't really him and wasn't really Red. He reached out to the console, searching, and a hand clasped over his own, snapping his attention. Pidge had stopped him, and when he looked at her she looked down at her hand in equal parts shock and fear.

"Uh…" she said, blinking. "Not that screen," she said - not at all quick enough to cover the action, "The protocol screen might be easier to start with. Are we sure this is a good idea?"

Keith was getting curious now. "Yes," he said. He wanted to see how much Green could affect Pidge, just as much as he wanted to see if he could pilot another lion, just as much as he wanted to see if Red could handle it.

The Paladin didn't take his time for the next attempt, just opened a window on the screen Pidge had suggested and started pressing buttons, and felt Red _roar_ ; the cockpit shook with the sound as did the chambers of his own mind. A shiver shot down his spine and he felt Pidge do the same.

"Geez, Red, don't be so possessive," he muttered.

"Possessive?" Pidge demanded, incredulity making her voice crack up an octave. "That's Red being _possessive_?"

"Don't worry," Keith said. "I got this." He reached out again, this time to the corner of his mind that belonged to Red, and sent his Lion reassurance, respect, understanding. This was an experiment, nothing more, he just wanted to see if one pilot could fly multiple lions. "I'm not replacing you," he murmured, as his free hand went to Green's windows.

A dangerous, predatory growl sent Pidge skirting over Keith's field of vision and calling up a communications window.

"Uh, Shiro?" she asked, hesitant.

" _What is it?_ " Shiro demanded, all business as always. Keith irked to witness the cry for help - the whole point of the exercise was to see if Paladins could pilot other lions, specifically if Keith needed to protect _Shiro_ , and he didn't need _Shiro_ of all people to swoop in and either fix or stop this.

"Uh, we might have a small situation here."

"We can handle is, Shiro," Keith said quickly, cutting off Pidge's sentence as fast as he could. "You're busy. Stay put. We'll figure this out."

Red growled at the very idea, yellow eyes staring directly at Keith through the view screen.

" _What that a_ Lion _sounding upset?_ " Lance's distinctive voice came over the comms, sounding petulant and incredulous all at once. That was _all_ Keith needed.

"Back off," he said, voice slightly harder than he wanted. "We got this."

"Uh, no, Keith; we kinda don't," Pidge hissed back, turning to give him a dirty look.

" _Just stay put,_ " Shiro replied sternly, " _I'm on my way_."

The line ended and Keith was furious. "You didn't have to call him! We can handle this-"

"Keith, your own Lion is yelling at you! You aren't stopping - how is that in control?"

"You didn't have to get _Shiro_ to come down!"

"He's the only rational person on this entire ship!"

"I'm rational!"

"Not if this is any indication!"

"What is your problem? Don't you trust me?"

" _No_ , I _don't_!"

Both of them froze, the words sucking the air out of the argument and pulling them both out of their own anger. Keith blinked, the declarative sinking in slowly, before he sank back into the seat of the cockpit, looking away.

"... I see," he said softly.

"No, no, not like that!" Pidge said quickly, voice higher than normal and head shaking violently. "I'm sorry! It just came out!"

"I get it," Keith said quickly, shutting down further demural.

"No, you really don't."

"What, like I don't know what I'm doing with the Lions?"

"No! You're putting words in my mouth - would you just listen-"

"I think you've said enough," Keith said, low and dangerous.

"Would you just _shut up!_ " Pidge shouted, leaning into Keith's personal space. The Red Paladin froze, face inches from hers, and their bound hands awkwardly twisted into his chest. He couldn't escape, tied to her, he couldn't walk off or end the conversation or even turn his back to her. All he could do was look up at her, golden eyes fierce and frustrated, and listen.

Pidge didn't say anything at first, face flush with emotion and filled with too many emotions for Keith to guess at. She breathed heavily through her nostrils before twisting away, turning her back to him before their tied hands prevented her from making a full rotation. She settled for sitting next to the console, leaning against it and drawing her legs up. "Kerberos," she said, brown head tilting down to her knees. "I've been like this since Kerberos."

Keith hadn't expected to hear the name of the doomed mission that had taken Shiro from him. No, he corrected himself: taken _her family_ from _her_.

"It's just… My brother was my world, and my dad was my hero. And after… Mom could barely function and…"

Keith turned around in the seat, angled his head to try and see around her thick mass of hair, tried to see the face she was making to better understand what she was reaching for, a little afraid of what he would find.

"I had to do it all myself," she said, free hand running through her hair, hiding herself even more. "I was all that was left…"

The words pierced into Keith, he was suddenly a child looking up to his father in the cabin, realizing that his world was breaking apart; he was suddenly staring up at the orphanage, knowing that the only person in the world who loved him were now gone. The empathy surprised him, he had never expected to find someone in the world who understood him - not after Shiro. So many things flooded through his mind, too fast and too strong, and all he could do was stare at the back of her head, eyes wide and mouth open to say… something. The pause drew out, and Keith was dumbfounded on what to do after this revelation. Was he supposed to offer support? How? Tell her it would be okay? Why? How did Shiro do any of this…? But he didn't know, and he was perfectly still to prevent somehow breaking such a fragile confession.

"I'm sorry," Pidge mumbled. "I only just decided to stay with the team… when Sendak blew everything to hell. It's been, like, what: a week? I can't just get used to this overnight like you did."

Keith prickled that anyone even _thought_ that. It wasn't that he was used to this - no one _sane_ would be used to flying across the universe piloting half-magical lions and fighting aliens to save the…, well the _universe_. It was just… Shiro was all he had, and he would follow that man to the end of the universe, simple as that.

"You're assuming Keith gets used to anything quickly," a new voice said.

Both Paladin's startled at the new voice, and their heads whipped around to see Shiro entering the cockpit, running a hand through his shock of white hair.

"Shiro?" Pidge demanded. "How did you get in here?!"

The older man gave a small smirk. "You left your Lion open," he said.

The two looked at each other… no they hadn't.

… The Lions were making a point. Both of them made faces.

"So what, exactly, are you two doing?" Shiro asked, voice light but tone anything but.

Keith's earlier irritation returned as he remembered why Shiro had come in the first place. "We're conducting an experiment. Pidge was chickening out."

"I was _not!_ "

"You were letting Green's nervousness take over your own curiosity," Keith countered, voice more petulant than he wanted to admit. "You went from excited at the idea and fiddling with _Red's_ controls to calling for Shiro at the first sign of trouble."

Pidge blinked, surprised to hear that, as her mind skittered to a halt.

Shiro was not so quickly deterred. "You're trying to pilot _someone else's Lion_?" he asked, tone dangerous.

"Yes," Keith said without any shame. "If one of us is injured and can't pilot then it would be helpful to know that any paladin can step up."

Shiro stared for a very long time, and Keith refused to back down. He stared up at Shiro, holding as much of this as he could with Pidge lost in thought as she was. Finally, Shiro relented, shrugging his shoulders and uncrossing his arms. "It's a good idea," he said, "But you might have considered letting people know what you were doing - in case, say, someone heard Lions growling and were worried what was going on. Or, say, having someone in a Lion as backup in case something went wrong. Or, say,"

"We get it," Pidge said, voice slightly softer than normal. "We're sorry. We got a little carried away."

Shiro softened slightly, and put a hand on the back of the chair and leaned on it. "So," he drew out, "How far have you gotten?"

Pidge happily dived into explanation, energy slightly subdued as she explained what they had done and not done since lunch, and Keith slowly tuned it out as he closed his eyes and once again began hunting for Green. Now that Shiro was here - and he would _never_ admit this in public - he was more relaxed, and he could sense that Red was more relaxed, too. Was that because the pilot of the Black Lion, the head of Voltron and by default the decision-maker, was here? That was an interesting thought to pursue and his curiosity finally pointed him to a very small part of his brain. Was that Green?

A hand touched his shoulder, and he looked over to see Shiro smiling at him encouragingly. Keith reached out and touched the panels, and now that he found Green (he thought that was Green…) he asked it to fly.

There was a mighty roar - which Lion Keith didn't know - and everything _heaved_ , Pidge collapsed onto his lap with a yelp and Shiro's arm clenched on his shoulder and there was so much _motion_ and Keith would later completely deny that he was shouting along with Pidge as they took off. Wait, took off?

Keith… was piloting the green lion. _He was piloting the green lion!_ He shouted in excitement as he grabbed the controls, jerking Pidge's hand with him as he started to take Green for a run, but the lion didn't respond, just kept flying, and there was another _jerk_ to one side - Green was twisting her head around, and Keith realized this might have nothing to do with him.

"What's going on?" Shiro demanded.

"I don't know!" Keith shouted. "I thought I was piloting her!" He tried to reach into his head, to figure out what was happening, but there was too much noise and too much motion; he couldn't concentrate.

"Pidge! Take over!"

Keith saw the girl curled across his lap and realized she couldn't get up. Grunting, he thrust himself out of the chair, ingloriously dumping her on the floor and giving her space to get up. The youngest Paladin scrambled to her feet and into the cockpit, Keith quickly having to twist himself around to compensate for their bound arms before she grabbed the controls and yanked them back, jerking Green's reigns and begging her to stop. "It's me!" she shouted. "It's me, slow down!"

Green jerked to a stop so quickly everyone was sent flying forward, Keith bumping his head against the edge of the console as Shiro made a grunting noise and nearly flipped over the chair of the cockpit.

For a moment, everyone just breathed.

And, dimly, Keith realized someone was still screaming. He looked up, rubbing his nose and searching for the owner of the voice. It wasn't Shiro, nor Pidge, and he noticed belatedly there was some audio distortion that meant it was coming from the comms.

" _Oh, thank God._ " … Hunk? " _Okay. Okay, how do we-_ "

Shiro leaned over Pidge's shoulder and to the active communication screen. There was no picture, just audio. "Are you two alright?" he demanded. "Hunk, Lance, can you hear me?"

" _Oh, we're just_ fine _!_ " Lance shouted, voice an octave above what he normally sounded. " _Nothing like a life-threatening fall through unknown HVAC units into a giant open-where are we anyway?_ "

" _Engine room I think._ "

" _Engines? That's a_ crystal _!_ "

There was a garble of stactic and voices, Keith thought he recognized Coran's voice, but Shiro cut in to repeat himself: "Are you okay?"

" _Peachy,_ " Lance retorted, indignant.

" _We're fine, Shiro,_ " Hunk added. " _Probably a little sore in the morning._ "

" _We most certainly are_ not _fine! I'm barely holding on by my fingernails! We can't hold on like this forever! How do we even get on the catwalk from here?_ "

" _Uhhh…_ "

" _Exactly!_ "

Shiro's eyebrow twitched, a sign Keith new very well, but the Black Paladin put the irritation aside and instead sounded confidently reassuring. "You can do it," he said, "I'm on my way, but it will take a while."

A pause, then,

" _A_ while _?_ "

" _Why?_ "

Shiro looked at Pidge, who was fiddling with the view screens awkwardly with her right hand. She gave a small, sheepish grin. "We're kinda across the galaxy at the moment."

" _... Huh?_ "

"Okay," Shiro said, cutting off the comms, "How far is across the galaxy?"

Pidge frowned, looking at the read out more closely. "We flew for approximately three and a half minutes, but Green's speed is way past was I normal clock her at. Was that Keith's influence? It should take us about four and a half minutes to get there, then there's just navigating the castle."

Shiro nodded. "Okay, then let's get moving."

* * *

Lance grunted. He hadn't been kidding about holding on by his fingernails. The tips of his fingers were the only thing stopping gravity from pulling him down to break Hunk's leg and his own. He pulled, trying to get a better grip, but he only went from one knuckle's grip to two on the edge of the catwalk and even that felt more pull on the leg tied to Hunk. He muttered some very impolite Spanish words, then created a few phrases on the spot for just this situation. Hunk grunted, feeling the strain as well, but Lance didn't dare loosen his grip.

"Okay," Lance called back, "You count! On three, I'll push off and swing back and over you to land on the catwalk!"

"No, no, no, no, no, no!" Hunk cried. "That won't work!"

"We have to do something! Now start counting!"

"Lance, it won't work! The human legs are the strongest part of the body because they have to hold and carry all the weight and even with that and a perfect push off, you wouldn't be able to overcome 9.8 meters per second squared!"

"I don't care about math, we need to move!"

"I'm saying that once you reach the apex of your period, you won't be able to keep going! You'll just fall back and won't have enough momentum to grab the catwalk again!"

"Dude, I'm not a girl! I don't have a period!"

" _Don't you remember physics?!_ "

Oh yeah. "Excuse me for not being able to do that level of math in my head for an instant!"

Lance's fingers slipped from a two-knuckle grip to a one knuckle grip. His reaction was a manly scream. A totally manly, not-at-all-high-pitched, manly scream.

"We have to do something!" Lance called (screamed) back. "It's' the only idea we have right now, so we might as well try it!"

"No! No, no, no! Each apex of your period will be lower than the last until you come to a dead stop hanging upside down and just hang there until both of our ankles break!"

" _I don't hear you coming up with anything!_ "

"Because you're not giving me time to think!"

"Okay, you know what, I'll count myself! Five!" Lance felt himself slip a micrometer and pulled himself as much as he dared, trying to get to a two-knuckle grip again. "Four!"

"Of course! Lance, don't angle to go all the way around me!"

"Three - What?"

"Angle sideways! Aim to reach the catwalk on my left or right! Just let me know which side!"

"That doesn't make any sense!"

"I can't explain quick enough! Go to my right! You're left! Towards the engine! Swing towards the engine!"

"There's no way I can make that!"

"Trust me and do this! Three! Two! One!"

"Raaaaaaaahhhhh!" Lance didn't have a clue what he was doing but he swung his arms and pushed off towards the engine with all his might. Gravity, that nine point eight meters per second squared that Hunk had been talking about, was more of a pull than his arms could accomplish, but he was at least going in the direction, even if it was down instead of properly sideways. Tension on his leg loosened, as expected, given the direction he was going, but in the millisecond it took to realize that, tension returned to his leg as it was pulled… was that upward?

Lance didn't have time to look, as he pushed his fingers and arms as far as they could reach to try and grab on to the other side of the catwalk.

Unsurprisingly, he didn't make it, but as his swing continued to curve into an ellipse, he rammed into and tangled with - Hunk's free leg?

What the _quiznak_?

His voice hurt, but Lance realized that maybe he should stop screaming for that to stop.

"What happened?"

"Ergh!"

Lance was still swinging in an ellipse, and not only that, he was rotating as well. He grabbed Hunk's free leg to at least stop his body from rotating, even as they both continued to swing. With his body finally facing one way, Lance tried to glance up and around, blood rushing to his head with his upside down position.

"What the?!"

Hunk had their shared leg up on the catwalk. "How in space did you-"

"Less talking!" Hunk grunted, "More helping!"

"Right!"

Oh, he was going to feel this tomorrow. Their swinging was starting to slow, so Lance took a deep breath. Hunk needed his weight gone. It was going to put a lot of strain on Hunk's arms and the one leg that was on the catwalk. This was entirely on his upper body. This would be like doing handstand push-ups. His face already sweating with all the blood rushing to his head, He slowly started to push himself up Hunk's leg and trunk. Once he was at Hunk's thick waste, Lance reached and stretched out his arm, grabbing the railing of the catwalk above, and levered himself up to something more upright and just stopped.

Hunk was already breathing a sigh of relief, since Lance was finally supporting his own weight. Both were panting heavily and their bodies were at incredibly awkward positions, with Lance's joined ankle on one side of Hunk and his arms on the catwalk on the other side. Lance was stretched thin, but he was, with a great deal of tension, holding his own weight.

"Ohhhh, thank God that worked," Hunk muttered.

"Wait, you _didn't know_?"

"Can we argue after we're both on the catwalk?"

Lance grunted. With Hunk sandwiched between himself and the catwalk, Hunk wouldn't be able to move, so Lance moved his trembling arms. He eased his way back over his portly friend so that he was all on one side and, finally upright, stepped over and braced himself. Hunk was all sweat, and it was clear that the past five minutes had been even more work for him than it had been for Lance. Lance wanted to offer a hand for Hunk to get over, but with the awkward balance of their shared leg, that just wasn't an option.

So, with one leg partly still over the catwalk with Hunk, Lance waited, and held firm to being on _this_ glorious and _safe_ side. Hunk used their shared leg to lever himself up and then looped his free leg over the catwalk. They both pulled their joined leg up and over and promptly collapsed into an exhausted pile, panting and heaving.

Finally lance weakly lifted his limbs into the air with a vaguely drained "Whoo-hoo!" and then collapsed back.

"You know," Hunk gasped. "Shiro would be telling us to stretch after all the exhaustion."

"Yeah…." Lance agreed. "Don't see him here to make us…."

One could clearly hear Hunk's smile. "Yeah."

"Take a break?"

"Take a break."

"Whew."

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** and, after a heavy Lance/Hunk chapter we now have a heavy Keith chapter. This part perhaps clearly explains why we did this fic: getting into people's heads. Keith may be Mirror's favorite, but Image was the one to write this scene to better understand the Red Paladin and understand his headspace. There's a scene later with Pidge that Mirror does in a similar vein, and anything we can do to understand Hunk and Lance is a plus.

This is also a nod to events later in the series, the idea of pilots switching lions has now been planted, not only in Keith's head for the Season 2 opener but for Shiro as he takes the ever-fatalistic approach and plan for the worst eventualities. We also get to see Pidge and Keith have a legitimate argument - and then watch them sort of make up; that's right in our wheel house. Hope you all enjoyed.

Also, this and all subsequent chapters are going up unbeta'ed. If someone catches a mistake let us know.

Next Chapter: the day may be over(ish) for the Paladins, but it's not over for Shiro.


	5. Chapter 5

**Part Five**

 _Sendak…_

 _Don't worry Lance, we'll get you out…_

 _Pidge…? Forget about-!_

" _Shiro, I'm gonna get-"_

" _I see the witches didn't give you the latest model…"_

 _I won't let you in._

" _You don't have a choice."_

Shiro's eyes snapped open and his entire body froze, sucking in air and holding it as adrenaline flooded his synapses and he became acutely aware of his surroundings. He exhaled slowly, lungs a little shaky, and he sat up. He looked at the clock - ticker - but had no idea what the time was. Pidge would call it "stupid o'clock" at any rate, and he sighed, rubbing his forehead, trying to decide if half remembered bits of trauma was better or worse than the vivid memory of his failures. He got up with practiced ease and left his room, starting his tour of the castle and trying to shake off the anxiety.

On an academic level, he understood what was happening, and Keith had not-subtly given him research on the problem and Shiro was not so proud as to avoid doing things that would calm him down when he had an episode. The days were better because the team made so much noise, there was so much to do and a hundred ways to distract himself unless a stressor hit him from left field - even those had slowly been ticking down as he started to understand what his time under the Glara's tender care had entailed. He knew that it would take time, and he pushed himself to understand that it was _okay_ to take time - even if they didn't have time, even if they were at war, even if he couldn't afford to freeze up or flash back in the middle of the fight.

Even if _Sendak_ was still on the ship.

… Damn it.

Shiro took another breath, slowly through his nose and holding it before exhaling through his mouth. That was why he was stressed out. Even in a pod, catatonic and unresponsive, the idea of a Galra in the castle set his teeth on edge. Noise during the day distracted him, but when he found Pidge's broken jetpack in the vents, remembered what the infiltration had caused, the list of his failures… It was no wonder this was his second time awake tonight. Sighing he shifted his direction and went back to the sleep quarters. _This_ , at least, he'd learned how to handle with nominal success.

Hunk and Lance were in Hunk's room, passed out under the blankets and dead to the world. Pidge wasn't in her room, though he'd expected that, and when he opened the door to Keith's room he found her with the Red Paladin. The foot long tether was back, Keith asleep under the sheets and Pidge slumped into a corner, laptop half off her lap, asleep. Even after the day's adventure she still couldn't quite stop. Shiro smiled and shook his head and carefully pulled the laptop and put it aside, tugging off her shoes like an elementary student and lifting her to bed. Keith woke briefly, making room for her, and Shiro gave him another smile.

Something about seeing his team asleep, lost in pleasant dreams, eased a muscle between his shoulder blades, and he watched the arms of Voltron for a time, eyeing their breathing and mentally cooing at how cute they were asleep. He watched for almost half an hour, letting himself relax, visually reminding himself that his team was safe, and that they had survived his failures.

The press of the mission had been too strong at first, going from one crisis to the next, determined to give nothing away while he was prisoner and Lance prone next to him, then off to the Balmera and trying to save Shay and the others, fighting the robot-beast and struggling to survive. Now, though, there was quiet, and in the quiet he had time to think, to reflect, to see just how badly he had failed.

He had voiced concerns about opening up the castle, to be sure, and he made a perimeter sweep - but he was only one person, there was no way he could have noticed the infiltration. It had taken him time, but he had come to terms with that. But he could have pressed the princess more, or even said no to the party at the castle all together. He could have taken Lance to the infirmary instead of outside the castle - he wouldn't have been caught and Lance would be that much closer to the help he needed. And poor Pidge wouldn't have taken fire _to the back_ , and Keith wouldn't have been locked out of the castle and forced to do nothing, and Hunk and Coran wouldn't have had to go out on their own to get a new crystal. All of his calls once the attack started were - mostly - sound, but it all stemmed back to that one moment.

And now Sendak was on the ship.

Serenity vanished, and Shiro left before his curse could wake the other Paladins. Tension was building in his muscles and he needed to work it off before he had another flashback. The fight with Sendak had been _pitiful_ , the Galra's overpowered arm too much for Shiro to handle, and he too used to the arena to think of severing the energy like Pidge had. Hell, his own arm was superheated, he could have melted his bonds as soon as he saw Pidge in trouble, or watched as Keith swung into battle with his bayard. But he had stayed in place, too well trained to be still and subservient until the fight came.

God, _Sendak_ was on the ship.

His feet took him to the infirmary, to the pod where Sendak was in stasis, arm deactivated and detached. He was asleep. Harmless. Restrained. Little more than a broken soldier, discarded by its master. It was fine.

… It was _fine_.

… _It was not fine_. An enemy on the ship when the castle was barely capable of flight? An enemy who had _caused_ all that damage? No, it wasn't a good idea. It wasn't safe to have him on this ship, and Shiro knew that this time, _this time_ , he would put his foot down with the princess and get this piece of garbage out of here. No prisoner would be kept like this, protocol was to move them to a secure facility (which they didn't have) and interrogate them (which they couldn't do). The soldier in Shiro, still alive and still reminding him what to do, was causing even more stress, knowing that he couldn't follow protocol but also fearful of this guy getting out. Even with all the assurances of Allura and Coran, the what ifs ran through Shiro's head, and he realized that coming down here was a mistake - he was keying up instead of calming down. Pursing his lips and left, not sure where else to go.

Eventually, he took a page from Keith's book and went to the training rooms. Exercise relieved stressors, and if he was going to flashback, at least it would be with something safe to punch. Shiro called up level five, pushing himself and pushing out all of his thoughts. The workout was thorough, and he took a few hits too many, but when all was said and done his mind was pleasantly numb, and he felt better about going to sleep.

After stretching, showering, and changing, he went back to his room and - like a teenager - flopped face-first onto his bed. His muscles ached and the sheets were cool to his skin, and he took a deep breath in and then out, thinking about tomorrow.

Pidge and Keith he wasn't worried about. Both of them were trying, and while they each had challenges that made connecting to others hard, they were putting their best foot forward, and both were intelligent enough to understand _why_. Today's misadventure in particular had helped them connect, Shiro had heard the tail-end of their argument. They had farther to go than Lance and Hunk, but Shiro also knew them better and had more faith in them.

Lance and Hunk were… a challenge. Where Pidge and Keith didn't hit off at all, they had the ability to synch with each other almost perfectly, but it wasn't anything resembling consistent, and Shiro hadn't completely diagnosed the problem. Some things were obvious: Lance not taking this seriously, Hunk unwilling to stand up for himself all the time; but there was something fundamental that Shiro couldn't put his finger on. He rolled over onto his back, looked up in the dark. Galaxy Garrison, that's where he needed to start.

He'd learned a lot from Lance today - or more specifically Hunk, who didn't bother posturing or making oneself look good. Lance came into Garrison already desperate to prove himself, the second choice after Keith dropped out. That made sense, and also explained why Lance was sometimes like he was: posturing in front of Allura, puffing himself up, even putting others down. He was uncertain of his place. Shiro could build him up, that wasn't the problem, but what Shiro didn't understand was when and how Lance could put all of that away. Once he knew the trigger things would go much more smoothly.

Hunk by contrast was easy to figure out but not how to fix. Hunk was a follower, pure and simple. He did his own thing, and if someone like Lance or Pidge breezed in with a new project or an adventure he allowed himself to be dragged along - complaining the whole way - before he could go back to doing his thing. Even walking, it took those two most of the day to understand that _Hunk_ was the one who needed to take the lead, that _he_ was the one who kept perfect time. Hunk didn't like going out of his comfort zone and was always doing things slowly, procedurally to keep himself calm. That made him the perfect person to lead the legs of Voltron, but he would never be comfortable calling the shots, and Lance would be too busy trying to get the glory to make himself feel better.

And yet, in spite of all of this, there were moments when they gelled so well it was a sight to behold. Just look as how they'd handled Shiro's… episode. Or the work they did this afternoon surviving the catwalks. Once they hit their stride they were nearly perfect together. The question was how to get them going.

… Dancing?

Allura had mentioned it earlier and maybe that would be the trick. If nothing else that would show them why they had to watch their footwork.

Pidge and Keith, Shiro already knew, would learn a lot tomorrow. Following Keith's schedule would be a challenge - especially for Pidge. In theory that would be the push they needed, if not Shiro already had some ideas.

But Sendak…

The drowsy feeling disappeared again as a spike of anxiety burned into him, and he sighed, turning his mind to his biggest source of stress.

If Sendak was here, even in stasis, he needed to be monitored - but the question was how to do that without waking him up. Shiro knew himself well enough to know that having a Galra onboard, _awake_ , was going to completely ruin his ability to function. But having the Glara here _asleep_ wasn't much better if his sleep was still going to be interrupted. There was the larger possibility of questioning him somehow - the chances of interrogating a Galra at all were low, and wasting this chance didn't sit right. But it went back to the problem of having a Galra on the ship. They couldn't exactly fly him off to a planet somewhere - putting him in one of the lions was out of the question and the shuttles weren't nearly secure enough. The ship was the only place left, and it wasn't like Shiro was heartless enough to just jettison him to space just for causing him stress.

So then what were the options…?

" _It's not just a hologram; it's King Alfor's very essence, crystallized and preserved for future generations. His entire consciousness is available to access and act as counsel. Why, it might as well be King Alfor!_ "

Shiro's eyes snapped open. Could that even be possible? Could he have it both ways…?

He smiled, and at last he relaxed, and was asleep in minutes.

* * *

That morning he was up well before 0500, changed and ready for the day and waiting by Coran's door. The older Altean stepped out and didn't even blink to see Shiro there so early, and they walked together for a time before Shiro brought up his idea.

"You said that King Alfor is crystallized in the castle," he said without preamble.

"Yes, of course. Did you want to meet him?"

Shiro blinked at first, feeling abashed. "Thank you, but no," he said carefully. "I don't want to infringe upon him without the princess there. I was more curious about the _process_. Is it tied to Altean royalty, genetics, or can anyone go through that cerebral copying?"

"Anyone can do it," Coran said brightly, fluffing his mustache. "It's not linked to specific genomes or traits, but Altea often saved the privilege for those who were already great: diplomats, philosophers, leaders, artists. Ones who contributed to Altean society and somehow made it better. We even have a few teachers."

Shiro frowned, realizing this might go counter to Altean culture. He didn't want to infringe on the creators of Voltron - certainly not for his own limited sense of safety and sanity - but he reminded himself that this was _war_ and sometimes people had to do ugly things in order to come out on top.

… He tried not to think about how that thought connected to blurry images of an arena. The last thing he needed was another flashback.

Setting his shoulders, he made his request. "I want to copy Sendak's mind in order to interrogate him."

Coran stopped dead in his tracks, eyes wide enough Shiro realized the man's pupil's were blue the same way Allura's were pink. The slack shock made Shiro nervous, and he tried to explain himself. "He's proven to be too dangerous to keep awake - he took down the castle with five broken sentries and an accomplice, but as one of Zarkon's lieutenants he knows more about the Galra military structure than we do: troop movements, deployments, bases, standard strategies, procedures and regulations. If we can tap him for information we can be better prepared for the fight against the Galra and-"

Coran held up a hand, face a little pale. "I understand," he said, accent subdued. "I see the value in what you're saying. But what you're asking…"

Shiro nodded. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable. I take full responsibility for what I'm suggesting; I just don't know how to do it."

Two blinks, spaced far apart. "Not all of the systems for a transfer are up and running yet. And… I couldn't do this without the princess' permission."

"I understand."

Neither of them expected Allura to be awake, but she was not only that but sitting in a chair, mice pulling a blanket up over her lap before hopping over to some kind of futuristic dresser and opening a small box. Shiro saw beads, perhaps jewelry, but focused on the princess. She was still pale, but her eyes were sharper than he had seen in days, and she greeted them immediately.

"Coran, Shiro, good morning."

"Good morning princess," Shiro said. "Sorry to bother you so early."

"No, I just woke up," she said. "I feel much better today."

"That's good to hear," Coran said, face soft.

Allura reached for a brush and started moving it through her thick tresses. "How are the repairs to the castle, Coran? I confess I've not been able to absorb all the details, but today I think I can listen."

Coran launched quickly into a list of what had and hadn't been done - including the Paladin's adventures in the vents and across the local galaxy. Allura smirked at both stories but nodded at the appropriate moments: the ductwork was mostly clean of debris and the oxygen filters either flushed or almost flushed. Programming errors were still everywhere, diagnosis on that was and would be difficult because of the Galra crystal corruption but they were whittling down the problems with Pidge's and Hunk's help, and enough systems were restored that some small parts of the castle were placed on auto-maintenance so they could work on other areas. Allura took it all while brushing her hair and the mice playing in the jewelry box.

"And what is it you haven't said?" she asked, leveling a flat look to Coran.

The red-headed Altean coughed and looked at Shiro.

"I had an idea, princess, and Coran wanted your approval before I moved ahead with it."

"More training for the Paladins?"

"No," Shiro said. "I want to copy Sendak's mind the way King Alfor's was and interrogate him."

Her eyes widened, face flushing with the idea. She leaned back in her chair suddenly and for a moment Shiro and Coran exchanged glances, thinking she would faint at the idea.

But, then,

"Do it," she said, voice hard.

"... What?"

"I grant you my permission," she repeated. "I will do whatever it takes to defeat Zarkon and his Galra Empire."

Coran stepped forward, face wide and open to read. "Princess…"

She looked at him. "You should know better than anyone why this is necessary," she said.

"But to do it to a prisoner, an unwilling participant, some who isn't…"

"I understand, Coran," Allura said. "The very idea sickens me, but we _must_ win this fight, and I will not say no to something for simply being unpalatable."

Coran said nothing, his face awash with concern, and Shiro worried that he had created a conflict between the two. He disliked the idea intensely, but he couldn't turn his back on the opportunity, either - he wished he didn't have to involve the Altean's at all. It was his dark idea and he was serious when he said he would take responsibility.

"How fair the Paladins? Was there improvement yesterday?"

Just like that the subject changed, and Coran bowed to leave and begin his duties.

"Yes and no," Shiro reported, switching gears just as quickly. "I have a better idea, though, on how to push them today. I was hoping I could have your help with that, if you can stay awake long enough."

"Of course," she said, eyes determined. "Anything I can do to assist the Paladins of Voltron. What do you need?"

Shiro offered a smile. "I want you to teach Lance and Hunk how to dance."

Allura's eyes glittered.

* * *

Pidge fidgeted. Coran had already breezed in once they woke up, unlocked their cuffs so that they could shower and change, then _blew_ by re-cuffing them. She and Keith had merely shared a glance and a raised brow before heading down the to training deck. (Pidge was certainly _not_ looking forward to falling on the ground a lot for Keith's day...) Lance and Hunk had come in, for once walking in perfect coordination. Pidge actually reached up and adjusted her glasses, just to make sure that she was seeing things correctly.

"Amazing," she muttered.

Beside her, Keith only nodded.

"Morning!" Hunk greeted cheerfully. "I was thinking, after we get our to-do lists for the day, Lance and I could head down to the kitchens and get a good breakfast going."

Keith shrugged. "Sounds good."

"Yeah, of course it does!" Lance was energetically gesticulating, yet somehow his legs remained stationary as he started enthusiastically detailing how much better the two of them were going to do compared to Pidge and Keith.

Pidge offered a flat eyed stare. "You think this is a competition?" she said dryly.

"Of course!" Lance was indigent. "And Team Green is much better than Team Brown!"

A vein pulsed along Pidge's brow. "Last I checked, _I'm_ the Green Paladin, not you two."

"Mmmmaybe," Lance drawled, leaning in. "But last I checked combining yellow and blue makes a beautiful color called green while combining green and red simply makes a muddy, icky brown."

Now Pidge's eye was twitching.

Beside her, Keith, also flat-eyed and annoyed, only shrugged. "Combine green, blue, yellow and red, and all you'll get is black. Black is the unification of all colors."

"Yeah, well-" Lance rounded on Keith, clearly wanting some sort of brilliant comeback to that, but he just stared, eye twitching and mouth pursed. Clearly, nothing was coming to mind. "Well," his response was clearly fizzling, "you know..."

In perfect sync, Keith and Pidge gave each other a high five.

"Well Red is just the color of anger!"

Since Pidge was still facing Keith from their high five, she saw the hidden wince and _knew_ that Lance had just crossed some sort of line. In the woven cloth that also bound their hands beyond the wrists their cuffs held together, she squeezed a finger, trying to show her support.

It was also clear that whatever Keith was going to say next was going to get devolved into some sort of fight that wouldn't do any good with them all bound together.

"Hunk!" she shouted. "What progress have you made!"

"Oh! Ah! Oh, um, well, I didn't get much chance to work on anything yesterday," Hunk stuttered, poking his fingers together and glancing between the likely combatants. "Lance and I were in the vents for pretty much the whole day."

"We spent most of the morning in my workshop going over code!" Pidge replied loudly still glancing between the glaring match of Keith and Lance. "Then the afternoon was spent seeing if we could pilot each other's lions!"

" _What_!" Lance shouted, rounding to Pidge. "Dude, _none_ of you are to pilot Blue! We're together, and _nothing_ will ever separate us!"

"That wasn't what we were trying to do!" Keith growled back.

Oh, the situation was getting worse.

Pidge locked eyes with Hunk and they both nodded. As one, both Hunk and Pidge yanked hard at their cuffs. This succeeded in getting Lance down to the floor, and Keith turned his attention to her. Well, Pidge could work with that and she glared at him.

Keith's face smoothed from angry to grumbly, and he crossed one arm and looked away.

Lance was indignant again. "Hey! What was that for!"

"Oh?" Hunk asked innocently. "Oh, sorry, was that me?"

Lance grumbled.

They stayed like that for a moment.

"Soooo..." Hunk drawled out, looking around, "anyone know why Shiro isn't here yet?"

Pidge blinked, looking around. The others did as well.

"Huh, you're right," Lance said as he righted himself. "He's usually in here waiting for us."

Pidge looked to Keith and saw the slightest narrowing of the eyes. She didn't blame him. Shiro, whether he wanted to or not, inspired all of them to worry about him. He was the calm decision-maker, as befitted the head of Voltron, but he was also the mediator during their little spats. He was the first with a plan, dependable, the most level headed.

Him not showing up ahead of them lead to the ultimate question of _why_.

Then Keith's eyes loosened, and Pidge turned to see where he was looking. Sure enough, the door was opening and Shiro and Coran, deep in conversation stepped in. They remained in conversation as they walked up to the Paladins, and stayed in conversation as they swept on by and out another door.

"Uh..." Hunk offered intelligently.

"Anyone else think that was strange?" Pidge asked.

"Heck yeah!" Lance enthusiastically agreed.

"No," Keith countered. "That's Shiro with a project. He's completely focused."

"Reeeeaaaalllly?" Lance offered his own flat-eyed look and raised a brow.

Keith's eye twitched. "It was actually worse for exams. He's been like that for every battle we've been on."

Hunk tilted his head. "Really? I mean, I haven't noticed it, have you noticed it? I mean, obviously _you_ noticed it, Keith, but what about you Pidge?"

"Seriously?" Keith was incredulous. "None of you have seen that face before? That's been his face for all our missions. That's the goal-oriented, gotta-get-this-done-no-matter-what face."

"Clearly none of us have!" Lance shouted back.

Pidge decided to intervene before this devolved back into fighting.

"Whatever," she shrugged. "If Shiro's in mission-mode, then what are we going do today? He's been doling out assignments, and he just blew by without even a glance."

Lance's face brightened considerably, as did Hunk.

"No more vents!" they both cheered. "No more vents!"

Keith just looked away.

"No more vents!"

Pidge looked to Keith. It was obvious that his emo-loner-mopey face was on and she was just seeing past it to realize that he was being prickly this morning for some reason, she just didn't know what.

"No more vents!"

Pidge gently shook their shared wrist. Keith didn't turn, but he did flick an eye to her.

"No more vents!"

"You know Shiro best," she said. "What should we do?"

" _No more vents!_ "

Keith stared at the floor for a long moment, Lance and Hunk's cheers still ongoing. Finally he let out a breath. "We should continue with what Shiro wanted."

" _Whaaaaat_?" Lance stopped cheering to get incredulous again.

Keith's eye twitched, but he continued to calmly explain. "Shiro still has us cuffed together. It's clear he still wants us learning about teamwork. He's outlined the idea pretty clearly. We follow one of our days and figure out how to do tasks together and in unison. Pidge and I have done her routine for two days. We'll continue for today and tomorrow on my routines. You two started on Hunk's day, then did Lance's yesterday. So today will be Hunk's routines. The more practice we get working in synch, the better we'll be with Voltron."

"But we still haven't done _my_ day!" Lance whined.

"Keith has a point," Hunk nodded. "We're way better at walking now, but there's more to doing things than just getting from one point to another."

"And we made a lot of headway yesterday," Pidge smiled, "it's always best to build momentum once you're past inertia."

"No, no, nonononono," Lance had rounded to Hunk. "We are _not_ heading to your workshop or the kitchens right now to do something boring or possibly delicious. _We_ are going to work with you on your aim! Today we are _definitely_ doing something that _I_ want to do! If those two got to do Pidge's day twice in a row, then you and I are doing _my_ day twice in a row! Now march us to the target practice! On three! One... two... three!"

"Huh," Pidge observed. "They didn't fall that time. I guess they are making progress."

Keith barely nodded.

Pidge glanced at him from the corner of her eye. "Sooooo, how do we do this? I've been thinking about this your-day thing with our bound hands, and I don't have a clue to do the level of sparring you do when we're tied together like this. It's going to throw off all our balance."

"We're not," Keith replied, and it seemed he was letting the unpleasantness from before go away. He turned and looked to her, free arm on his hip. "You only have the basics of hand-to-hand from the Garrison."

Pidge started to sweatdrop. "Y-yeah...?"

Keith's mouth barely quirked into a smirk. "Your _bayard_ is an edged weapon. Granted, with a lot more reach, but not always. You need to understand stances and fights with a blade."

Defense! Defense! "Hey, I took out Sendak's arm, right? I can handle it just fine!"

"And your form was sloppy and exerted too much energy. We're going to spend the morning going over moves and forms."

Oh _quiznak_!

* * *

Lance held his space equivalent of an assault rifle and slowly took a breath, getting a feel for the new training space and aiming down the barrel. It wasn't as natural as the weapons he had trained with yet, and he needed to be comfortable in order to be ace in accuracy. The greatly reduced recoil still threw him off – he expected his shoulder to jerk back and it only did so minutely. That broke a law of physics somehow – Newton's First Law about equal and opposite reactions, but then he was piloting a half-magical space lion to save the universe, and every so often when he fully saw the scope of what he was doing he figured physics was just some kind of low brow joke at humanity's expense.

An elbow nudged his own elbow, throwing off his aim.

Sigh.

"Hunk, shift your stance, you're getting in my way again."

"Sorry."

Lance felt the shift. And then got his ribs elbowed.

"Hunk!"

"Sorry! It's just I haven't had a lot of practice, and this thing is so big and unwieldy."

Sighing again, Lance lowered his weapon and turned his head slightly, looking at his best friend, eyeing his stance. "Your feet are too close together," he said, dismissing his rifle. "No wonder you keep waggling around. Is your aim off, too?"

"Uhm. Maybe. Just a little."

Lance pursed his lips and tried to figure out how to do this with their feet bound together. "Hold still a second," he said, bending at the waist and reaching out with a hand. "Move this leg. No, no, the other way. A little more – woah not that much!" Lance made a face and crawled out on his hands, stretching his hamstrings and then angling around. Hunk's super heavy weapon was just centimeters from his head, and Lance gulped as he balanced on one hand and grabbed his friend's ankle. He pulled and yanked until Hunk's feet were – finally, shoulder width apart. "There," he said, straightening. "Maybe now you won't be swaying all over the place when you try and aim that thing. Remember to keep your legs bent."

Hunk dipped into a full squat.

"No, no, not that much," Lance said, shaking his head in exasperation. "Here, watch me." Lance spread his feet, shoulder width apart, and bent them just slightly. "See? If you lock your knees you're more likely to tip over. Just keep them unlocked and you'll be fine."

Hunk adjusted accordingly, lifting his hefty weapon and taking aim. He hit his target.

"There, see!" Lance said, slapping his friend on the back. "Just like on the Balmera, right?"

"Eh, my aim wasn't that great there, either," Hunk said, making a face, "But it was better than when I first tried to fire this thing."

Lance smirked. "Saved your girlfriend well enough."

"I'm... tired of trying to correct you every time."

Lance took that as a victory and got back to aiming. Now that Hunk wasn't jabbing him in the side with every shift of stance Lance could really get into the zone. The room drifted away and it was just him, the target, and his thoughts. He did this for hours back at the Garrison, when he learned he had missed the last piloting space by half a point. Cargo piloting wasn't going to be glamorous, but by god he was going to be the best at it – so what if freighters didn't have their own guns? He would just carry an assault rifle with him in the event of being attacked. It was a fool's dream, but it kept him going. And then three months later a certain mullet dropped out and his half point didn't matter anymore.

He remembered calling his family, trying explain. Just one question was wrong, because of that he couldn't go to space...

He wanted his mother's hug so badly, and he couldn't get it over the phone...

Just like now...

Lance lowered his rifle, straightening, staring off into his memories.

"Hunk..." he said slowly. "Do you still miss them?"

The Gold Paladin stilled, turning to his friend, face questioning.

Lance shook himself out of his memory, blinking and turning to better see Hunk. "I haven't heard you talking about your family for a while. Do you still think about them?"

Understanding flitted across Hunk's features, and a soft smile filled his large mouth. A big hand slapped across Lance's shoulder. "Of course I miss them. Remember when Pidge said she wanted out? I asked if that was a legitimate option."

"Wait, Pidge wanted out? When was this?"

"Oh, right, you were with Coran getting blown up. Of course you wouldn't remember."

Lance bristled. "Well excuse me for half dying!"

"No, no, that's not what I mean!" Hunk said quickly. "I was just saying! I get homesick too!"

It... It helped to hear Hunk say that – to know he wasn't alone.

"It's just," he said softly, "Nobody talks about it. Pidge, Keith, Shiro – we're a zillion galaxies away and none of them even blink that they might never be home again. Wouldn't they want to go back? To miss where they grew up?"

Hunk shrugged his shoulders, shifting his weight. "I still miss them," he said. "Why do you think I cook so much? I cooked for my family, too. I wanted to go home so bad it hurt, and when Pidge said she was leaving I jumped at the thought. But you know what happened?"

Lance shook his head.

Hunk smiled. "I went to the Balmera. I watched Coran freak out that this dull mining planet used to be this beautiful noble creature. I met people who were so subjugated that they had never heard the word freedom before. They never saw the sky before. I saw what life under the Galra was like. And I saw how different things were when we saved the Balmera. What we're doing... it makes a difference – not just for Shay but for everyone. What we do – it's necessary. Nobody else can do it, and how could you go home when the chance to do something so monumentally good?"

"But don't you still miss them?" Lance asked, heart aching.

"Of course I do," Hunk said. "But now, when I think about how much I miss them, I remind myself of why I'm here in the first place. It's a little roundabout, but I'm protecting them from the Galra, so I can put up with a little homesickness if it means they don't suffer what Shay and her people did."

Lance looked down at his feet, eyes watery. The big hand on his shoulder squeezed, and for a moment, Lance felt a little better.

* * *

Pidge was on the ground, panting heavily. Beside her, Keith sat cross-legged and not even looking winded.

"You are worse than Shiro," Pidge declared.

Keith clearly took that as a compliment and smiled. "You're doing better."

She refused to grumble at that.

Keith was right, though. After the time at the Garrison with the basics of hand-to-hand, she had thought she'd known enough to defend herself, and that was enough. Besides, they were there for space exploration, not war, so she failed to see the point in perfecting much in terms of fighting.

Now she was _in_ a war. Fighting was going to be a life-saving skill. Yeah, Shiro drilled them from time to time in the month they'd been gone, but Pidge was just beginning to realize that she was actually going to have to put in some effort for all this. And Keith was also right. With an edged weapon, she needed to know some level of blade work, even if she liked the grapple feature more than the cutting edge. Keith still had that knife she'd seen when they'd rescued Shiro from the Garrison, and it was clear he knew how to use it. It was also clear that because his knife was small, that also meant he was good at forms that Pidge would need. Obviously the bladework he'd been learning recently had everything to do with that longer sword his _bayard_ took shape of.

Pidge took better control of her breathing and sat up. Keith raised a brow at her and she promptly rolled her eyes but eased down in to stretches anyway. With luck, they'd be having lunch soon and she didn't want to be all stiff by the time they were done eating.

Now that she had proper breath control, she decided to talk. "You look like you're doing better than this morning," she said.

Naturally, Keith stiffened and looked away.

Pidge rolled her eyes again.

"You know," she said, switching stretches, "the more we get to know each other, the more all of us are going to see through your emo-moody facade. Beyond just Shiro. I'm sure that we'll eventually see that Lance doesn't just set himself up to be the butt-monkey all the time."

Keith offered a withering look. "Lance saved Coran's life in that bomb. I think he's proven that he's more than an idiot who pushes buttons already."

"But he keeps pushing yours."

Keith sighed. "Yeah."

…

Pidge sighed again. "I thought you were adjusted to all this already," she commented, switching to yet another stretch. "Within a week, when I was ready to leave Voltron, you were ready to call me out on it. You've been vocal and making sure Voltron worked. Aside from Lance, who can be a real jerk, you've settled in great with everyone, better than me or Hunk."

"No," Keith mumbled, still finding specks of dust on the floor fascinating. "I haven't."

She offered a flat-eyed stare. "I beg to differ."

"Pidge," he turned with an annoyed stare, "there's a difference between adjusting and adapting."

She hunched her shoulders, and gave a stronger version of her annoyed stare. "Last I checked, they both meant the same thing."

"Nuance," Keith snipped back. "Adapting is easy. Adapting is becoming accustomed to the environment and conditions. Adapting has always been my strong suit."

"And that's different from adjusting how?"

"Adjusting is changing to fit." Keith looked down again. "That's the hard part."

"Sorry, but your nuance is flying over my head."

Keith let out a frustrated growl. "Look, I'm not adjusted to all this like you think I am! I didn't just get used to everything in a snap of a finger!"

"Look, I just meant that you were on board pretty fast with all of this!"

"No, I wasn't! I'm not!"

"I noticed that you 'adapt' fast," Pidge side-eyed him. "After all, you're definitely been the one to get the best handle on all of this, the aliens, the new galaxies, and Voltron-"

"Not Voltron," Keith interjected. "Voltron needs... stuff I don't know how to do."

The incredulity on Pidge's face was strong. "You're a natural pilot, the best of all of us with the possible exception of Shiro, you work well with all of us, even _Lance_ when the situation calls for it! What are you talking about!"

"That's the adapting," Keith replied, once more studying the floor. "Look, I'm good with a clear goal. I've had to adapt to new things for so long... without any stability or consistency... and that makes adjusting hard."

And all at once, everything clicked in her head. Keith may not talk about it a lot and details were sparse, but everyone did know that he was an orphan and had been through a few foster homes. He would have had to adapted to every new home he went to. But the more he went to new and different places, the more difficulty he would have with adjusting. Not bothering to connect with people, and closing himself off. A goal he could do, people he couldn't. Being here, he could handle the new technology, the Lions, the war, all of that. But Voltron needed bonds, which was where Keith would struggle the most.

Well...

Pidge flopped back on the floor with a sigh of a put-upon genius. "Keith, you're an idiot."

Naturally, Keith prickled, back straightening. Defense was already at his lips, but Pidge just kept plunging ahead. "None of us are going to be that great at the bonding thing. You were already kicked out, but you never saw our scores when Lance, Hunk and I did our simulations. We were _terrible_. We never got along, nothing but arguing, we didn't work together at all!"

Pidge _hrumpf_ ed and looked upside-down to her cuffed partner. "We're all going to have to get used to each other. I need to stop focusing on my family to bond with you guys, and that's not easy. Lance needs to get over himself, which he's been doing a _stellar_ job of as you know. Hunk needs to not just be lead around. At least he's made legitimate progress on that! Just look at how he yanked us all to the Balmera. So you have difficulty. Big deal. It's not like you're alone in it."

The Red Paladin was frowning at her, eyes narrowed, before his face relaxed and he shook his head, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Good to know we're all in the same boat in more ways than one."

Pidge smiled.

* * *

 **Author's Notes:** Poor Shiro. He tries, he really does.

It was important for us to make Shiro realistic with his PTSD. Like, fic writers love the idea of reveling in the angst and the thought of hiding the illness from the team, but the fact that Shiro is as well-adjusted as he is means that he's actively trying to treat the illness, and that means doing things like cognitive behavior therapy and meditation and watching Paladins be Sleep-Cute in order to relax him. That's good, leader-y stuff to do, looking after one's health - mental as well as physical - and trying to get better instead of actively not treating the wound. This also leads into the episode he has in, er, the episode this fic is preceding. His stress levels are on the rise for him to have that snap and do exactly what he just said - jettison the Glara to space.

Also, more moments with Lance and Hunk and Keith and Pidge. Lance's seen fares better here, its more touching and heartwarming than the arms.

Again, no beta for this chapter; we caught a few mistakes in the final proof before posting, if anyone sees anything let us know.

Of which, thanks to TimeturnerJasmy for finding one.

Next and last chapter: coreography. Lots and lots of coreography.


	6. Chapter 6

**Part Six**

Lunch was... a quiet affair. Shiro had been absent the entire morning – hadn't checked in on anyone, and none of the other Paladins quite knew what that meant. It was even more worrisome when they realized that Coran, too, was nowhere to be seen. That meant whatever "project" Shiro had absorbed himself in needed the older Altean, and that it probably had something to do with the ships systems in some way. Hunk and Pidge speculated on what it could all mean, happy to talk since they hadn't really seen each other for two days, but Keith's worried look kept Pidge quiet, and Hunk realized that at least one partnership was getting something out of this weird bondage bonding. Having said that, Keith all but yanked Pidge back to training, leaving Lance and Hunk by themselves. The Gold Paladin wasn't entirely sure what to do next – four hours target practice had helped a lot but he wasn't exactly looking forward to more of the same. First all day in his lab (at least that was fun), then all day in the vents - _twice_ – and Hunk decided he liked the idea of variety.

Lance was happy to do nothing, and the two of them were blatantly stalling on getting back to work when they heard an odd... was that a hum?

Allura arrived – Hunk said arrived because she didn't _walk_ in. No, the alien princess was in some kind of futuristic hover chair, yawning as the mice chittered on her lap. She looked at them for a moment, and they at her, before she clapped her hands together in delight.

"Excellent! I was hopping to find the two of you!"

Lance was of course thrilled at the idea and started making poses, but Allura instead backed out of the dining room.

"Come with me," she ordered. "I have an assignment for you."

And that was how the two of them ended up in one of the training rooms, Allura sitting in her space chair and studying them side by side.

"It's not perfect of course," she said, blue eyes narrow. "Neither of you have the perfect build for this, but I can see why Shiro suggested it."

Hunk knew whatever was going to happen next would be _terrible_.

"Right," she said firmly. "I am going to teach the two of you to dance!"

"You _what_?"

"Shiro explained what this exercise was for," she said, gesturing to the bound ankles. "To be the legs of Voltron you must understand how to synchronize yourself and move in conjunction with one another – to coordinate yourself as you never have before. Dancing is the perfect way to learn this. Now, Lance, you will be the boy, and Hunk, you the girl."

Hunk didn't eve have time to fully register the delineation before Lance burst out laughing, a high pitched yelping giggle that made Hunk very seriously consider lying to Keith about Lance insulting him. (Well, it wouldn't be a lie, Lance always found a way to rag on the Red Paladin, but Hunk was seriously considering deliberately inciting a fight – a very _un-_ Hunk-like thing to do but sometimes Lance brought it out in _everybody_ ) Instead he did his best impression of Keith's flat glare, silently hoping he was even half as intimidating.

Allura, meanwhile, took it all in stride and didn't even seem to notice Lance's reaction, because her next words were:

"That of course means that Hunk is the lead."

Lance's obnoxious giggle was cut short immediately. Hunk was still trying to play catch up.

"Uh, what?"

" _What?_ I'm the guy! I take the lead!"

"In what galaxy?" Allura demanded, offended. "Dancing is a noble and skillful profession of the women of Altea, it would be an insult if leading wasn't done by those who were the best equipped."

Hunk allowed himself to grin. "Yeah, Lance, best equipped." He ribbed his friend. Ah, that made him feel good.

"Are we going to argue over the obvious or are we going to get to work?" Allura asked. "Now, show me how an earth dance starting position."

Hunk and Lance of course couldn't perfectly face each other because of the bound ankles, and Lance was making several faces as he put his hand on Hunk's hip. The Gold Paladin was kind of passed embarrassment at his point, and regardless Hunk had barely put his hand on Lance's shoulder before Allura was making a very feminine version of a snort of indignation.

"Facing each other? At the beginning of a dance? How scandalous! Obviously we have a long way to go."

Dancing, Hunk learned, was complicated in Altean culture. It was a story above all else – done at festivals and holidays to commemorate events, passing them down through motion as well as oral tradition. Hunk thought of his own dances, the Maulu'ulu and the Fa'ataupati, what they meant and how important they were. Nodding, he listened at Allura. First they had to stand side by side – that was easy, but then Hunk had to perform very specific moves – acting as lead for Lance to follow. That... didn't work out as well – Hunk was many things but graceful wasn't one of them. Allura was very patient at first, but her voice grew tighter and tighter. She never yelled – a point in her favor, but Hunk could tell that she was a little frustrated.

"Princess, it's a little hard to learn a dance you've never done before," he said carefully.

Allura frowned, taking the suggestion with some thought. "Is there a dance the both of you know?" she asked.

Hunk knew for a _fact_ Lance didn't know any of his dances, and he frowned as he listed the non-Samoan dances he did know.

Lance was thinking, too. "Salsa?"

"No."

"Tango?"

"Holy crow, no."

"Merengue?"

"The what?"

"Don't you know how to dance?"

"Yes! Do _you_ know how to do the Fa'ataupati?"

"That's not even English!"

"Neither is meren-whatever you said!"

Lance grimaced and rubbed his forehead. "Rumba? Bomba? Plena? Samba?"

"Just how many dances do you know?"

Lance struck a pose, teeth gleaming. "I was the life of every party I went to!" he said proudly. "What about the bachata?"

"Ah! That one I know!"

"Excellent," Allura said. "Now remember, Hunk leads."

Lance rolled his eyes. "Hunk, I mean this in the best way possible, but I don't see how you could do the bachata any kind of justice."

Hunk smiled, a little blithe. "And you wouldn't last three seconds doing one of my dances, so I guess we're even!"

"Oh, it's on!"

Allura started clapping a beat – too slow at first, but Hunk corrected her and then he started counting. "One-two-three step; one-two-three step; one-two-three step!" Lance was, perhaps of course, a natural, and Hunk didn't really need to do much in order to lead. The bachata was an easy dance to do, which was the only reason Hunk was so good at it. Lance's hips swayed to the beat – something Hunk had no hope of doing, and they moved from side to side and back again. The front and back was a bit harder – with their ankles bound one was certainly doomed to step on the foot of another. It wasn't great, but it wasn't bad, either, and with Hunk watching his feet and counting, Lance was easy to keep pace with.

"No, Hunk! _You're_ supposed to be the lead!"

Hunk looked up and missed his cue, making Lance step on his foot. He tried to yank the appendage away from the pain, pulling Lance off balance and the pair swayed dangerously before tipping over. They had fallen so much over the last few days Hunk didn't even register the pain.

Allura was non plussed, arms crossed and looking down on them even though she was in a space-wheelchair.

"What," she demanded. "Was that?"

"That was the bachata," Lance mumbled, rubbing his chin.

"What the dance was is irrelevant. Why were _you_ leading when Hunk is the girl in this role?"

"Because I'm the one that knows the dance?" Lance asked.

"No!" Allura said. "That shouldn't matter. _Hunk_ knows the dance and _Hunk_ is supposed to lead. Why did you fail in your duty, Paladin?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Hunk said quickly, waving his hands in defense. "I wasn't failing – I mean I don't think I was; I was dancing – I was, I was doing the dance – and I was keeping time, you know, like I have been; and everything was going great! That was leading, right?"

Allura frowned, eyes narrow as she studied the pair. "I begin to see why Shiro wanted you to perform this exercise..." she said slowly. "Very well, let us try again. An Altean dance that neither of you know. Begin standing shoulder to shoulder..."

* * *

Allura was more forgiving of form this time, she was more focused on watching the two Paladins of Voltron interact with each other. Shiro had expressed his desire to make the Paladins more cognizant of their roles as the limbs of Voltron, and wanted to better understand how each pair worked together and how to improve what did exist or supplement what didn't. Keith he knew very well and, after a fashion, Pidge, but these two he had no prior connection to. They were already connected, but the synchronicity was not yet consistent, and he had yet to determine why. Now embroiled with setting up an interrogation with Sendak, it was up to Allura to determine the best course of action.

"Again," she said. "From the second movement."

Lance, who was already an experienced dancer, pointed out to Hunk where to go and the two moved into the forms (Allura tried not to cringe at the absolute _lack_ of elegance and vision), and Hunk followed suit. Lance's motions were more graceful, and on beat, but Hunk clearly had the better memory for sequence – to be expected of an engineer. The Gold Paladin gently nudged when necessary, and the two were adequate in terms of teamwork. Before, doing Lance's ba... chaba... doing Lance's dance the Blue Paladin was firmly in control, dragging Hunk as necessary as the Gold Paladin kept the beat. That, also, made sense because the dance was specific to Lance's quadrant of his planet. Allura was hard pressed to see why Shiro had insisted that Hunk be the lead, but she wasn't going to dismiss the observations of the head of Voltron out of hand either.

A mouse was on each shoulder, and the other two on the Paladins, squeaking their thoughts to her as she leaned back in her chair and watched.

"Let's try something different," she said. "Hunk, you said your quadrant of your planet had its own dances? Try to teach Lance one of them."

"Uh... what now?"

Allura straightened. "For someone assigned to be the lead, I have yet to see you do so." Hunk squirmed. "Perhaps giving you a dance you are more familiar with will make you more comfortable."

"Well..." Hunk drew out, fingering a cheek and looking at Lance nervously. "We technically need coconut oil if we want to do a Fa'ataupati, but we _are_ in more clothes so we _should_ be able to get away with it... It's a little weird just doing it with two people but..."

Lance was skeptical. "There's only one kind of dance I'm thinking of that needs less clothes, and I don't think that's what you mean..."

Hunk made a derisive face; Allura wasn't sure what either were talking about, but she waited patiently for Hunk to begin teaching. The silence, instead, drew out, and Allura knew she would not stay awake long enough if she simply waited for them. She crossed her arms and looked disapprovingly, making a polite noise. Hunk stammered, as was his wont, and got right to work.

"Okay, so, the Fa'ataupati is kind of like Western steps, right? You're making noise and rhythm with your body by slapping and stomping, and it's all done together to make it better. The sets differ a lot from island to island, but it's kind of like swatting at mosquitos. You had mosquitos in Cuba, right? So let's start like this..."

It was like watching a different person.

Allura marveled as she watched Hunk take Lance through the steps. The Gold Paladin, normally so timid and retiring, always the first to raise a hand and suggest safety over daring, was now assertive. He broke down the steps slowly, assuming Lance knew nothing of the dance, then adjusted speed accordingly as he saw the other Paladin pick up the material. Hunk was dynamic, attentive, sensitive to Lance's speed, strong as a lead. Allura blinked, as did her mice, the revelation utterly remarkable. At last she saw what Shiro saw: Hunk could be a gifted lead in the right circumstances.

After several minutes Allura switched again, asking Lance to teach Hunk another of his long list of dances, and now that she knew what she was looking for the princess saw the difference immediately. Lance was adaptable, certainly, and loyal and unable to leave a teammate behind, but as a leader he was not always conscious of the needs of those around him, and _that_ was why the legs of Voltron sometimes tripped or took a misstep. Lance loved his dances and wanted to share all of it with Hunk, and he did not take into account how foreign the movements were to Hunk and how timid his friend was with new things. They were opposites, but in just the right way to make them a dangerous pair if one learned to speak up and the other learned to listen.

Allura clapped her hands twice, getting their attention.

"Tonight," she said, "The two of you will dance for us."

"Aw, crud."

"All right!"

"The dance will be the fa... the fata... the dance will be Hunk's dance."

"Oh!"

"Aw, no! The salsa is so much better!"

Allura shot Lance a withering gaze. "The two of you fail to realize the purpose of this exercise, but Shiro was wise to teach the two of you dancing." Her eyes darted to the Gold Paladin.

"Hunk, as appropriate of the Yellow Lion, you work best when you are grounded, when you feel safe. You bear the weight of the entire team – even Lance – and must learn to let others know when the weight needs to be shared. You must speak up for yourself and realize that others will listen. Lance," she added looking hard at the Blue Paladin, "Your sense of adventure manifests as enthusiasm and the desire to dive into things headfirst. There is merit in that but you must learn to listen to those around you, to understand when they are trying to help you instead of holding you back. Doing Hunk's dance will _make_ you listen, and perhaps then you will realize to value the opinion of your partner. It is only through doing so that you will learn to work together, and through that, better support Voltron as he fights to save the universe."

And then, all at once, the energy left her, and she gave a great yawn.

"Meanwhile, I shall endeavor to be at full strength in order to witness the performance."

"Wait, you're going to be there?" Lance demanded, his tanned skin suddenly pink.

The princess gave him a withering look, knowing what he was thinking. "We will _all_ be there."

Hunk suddenly smiled and turned to his friend. "Yeah, Lance. Even Keith."

"What?!"

Allura nodded to the mice, and they left her shoulders to supervise the dance rehearsal. It was time to go back to bed. Another nap would restore much of her lost quintessense.

* * *

Keith frowned, and barked, " _Again!_ " as he and Pidge struggled with one of the castle's training gladiators. Keith, himself, had been training hard, and was up to a level three, but without knowing where Pidge was on her training, and assuming she hadn't been as dedicated to this as he and Shiro were, _and_ their bound arms, it was back to basics.

"I'm _trying_ ," she barked back, twisting around in a kick. Keith followed easily, adding his own kick to hers, sending the mechanical program staggering back, right into the looped grapple Pidge left out as a trap.

And, sure enough, Pidge stiffened and froze.

"End training program," Keith huffed. This wasn't working.

The plan had been simple. Now that Pidge had some basics for her edge work, the idea had been to do some sparring with a gladiator, doing specific moves to reinforce. If they could both think similarly in fighting situations, then they could flow together more smoothly for Voltron. It was a method for team building. One where Keith wasn't the one who had to do much sharing and was easier for him. He'd done enough of that touchy-feely stuff already.

Pidge was clearly making the effort. She preformed the moves, but she was freezing up more and more.

That wouldn't do.

So Keith leaned back and used his right hand to wipe some of the sweat from his face.

It seemed it was more touchy-feely time.

Keith turned away. "Pidge... Is everything... I mean... are you..."

"I'm fine," she replied firmly. "Let's go through the simulation again."

"Are you sure-"

" _Yes_."

Keith looked to her, and his frown deepened. Her eyes were narrowed and focused, but there was a wildness to her eyes. Desperation. "Computer, resume program."

The gladiator's engines and gears started whirling, the eyes coming alight in the same teal blue that their armor had. It advanced slowly, the lower level giving them a chance to prepare. The move they were trying to do involved a double kick. One coming first from Pidge, then Keith, and then, with the distance, Pidge would use the grapple part of her _bayard_ to tie up the legs and pull the gladiator off balance. She was doing fine with the kicks, and could shoot off the grapple, but there was always a hesitation. She stopped from pulling to trip, and the gladiator would step out of the trap.

And, sure enough, it happened again.

"End training program," Keith growled again. "Pidge, _what_ is going on?"

" _Nothing_!" she snapped back.

That actually made Keith pause. He only heard that type of voice on the rarest of occasions. From other fosters who had just come from something bad.

 _Quiznak_ , this _was_ going to require touchy-feely.

"Look," he sighed, running his free hand through his sweaty hair, "if... something's bothering you..."

"I'm _fine_."

Keith had had enough. "Wake up, Pidge, you're _not_ fine! We've been doing that routine for an _hour_ and it's the _first_ routine that you've had any trouble with! And not in the sense that you just need practice! That would take, what, two or three tries to get over with that big brain of yours. We've done this a bunch of times and there's _no_ improvement!"

"I _know_ ," she shouted back. "I know it's all in my head! I'm _trying_ to get over... I just... Look I'll get it next time, okay? Start up the simulation."

His eyes involuntarily narrowed and he leaned back to take a deep sigh. Feelings required a delicate touch that he decidedly did not have. Shiro would be so much better at this.

So would Hunk.

Probably Lance as well, and Keith _really_ didn't want to admit that.

He took another deep breath. "What do you think is going to change between now and the five minutes it will take to do that sequence again?"

"I'll do it this time!"

"What's going to _change_?"

"I promise, I can-"

" _What_ is going to _change_?"

" _Nothing_!" Pidge shouted back, "I just-" she fell back to sit on the ground and Keith was forced to join her with their bonded arm. "I just keep seeing..." she trailed off and rubbed her face with her free left hand.

Keith studied the floor, feeling ten kinds of awkward as the silence settled over them. Shiro by now would have surely intuited what was wrong and would be starting to offer advice. Hunk would probably bring up some project the two were working on as a distraction. Lance would just keep talking. Keith couldn't do any of those things. So he just sat there, mind whirling, trying to think of something to do that wouldn't completely stomp over something that Pidge was clearly being sensitive over.

They stayed like that for a while, just sitting there, before Pidge finally let out a long sigh. "I don't even know his name," she said softly.

Keith looked at her, not knowing what she was referencing.

"Sendak's lieutenant," she clarified, still not looking up. "The guy I..."

Oh. Keith remembered the debriefing they had as Lance was recovering in his pod. Pidge had talked about facing down Sendak's lieutenant and the sacrifice Rover had done to finish him off. But to hear what had happened, Keith didn't think Pidge had really killed anyone. Not on purpose. Not with cold efficiency or anything of that sort.

Keith sat some more trying to think of anything that might mean anything. He did edge closer to her, since Lance and Hunk seemed to always do physical touch to help people. Shiro had no problem mussing Keith's hair or putting a hand on the shoulder. So he bumped shoulders with Pidge and leaned a little in to her to be there. She gave a warbling sound and settled into his side as he kept trying to figure out what to say.

"We've all killed at this point," he said softly.

"Wh-what?" Pidge looked up to him, eyes shining more than Keith wanted to see.

"All of us," he said, decidedly not looking at her. "We've taken down a Galra battleship on Arusia. There were hoards of fighters on the Balmera. We've already killed hundreds, if not thousands, of Galra soldiers."

Pidge reached up and adjusted her glasses, then rubbed wetness from her eyes. "You're probably right," she acknowledged. "It 's just... different."

It didn't take Pidge's genius to see why. "You actually saw his face," he said.

"Yeah." She leaned back, looking up to the ceiling. "We exchanged words. Insults mostly, he wasn't happy that I was a child, you know the drill."

"It wasn't abstract anymore," Keith said softly. "It was a person."

"Every time we go to trip that program, I... remember."

What was Keith supposed to say to that? When he was punching or causing damage when he was growing up, after his father had died, he hadn't really been looking or seeing. He'd just been angry and letting that rage out. He didn't remember much of who he fought or why, just that something had bugged him so bad and he'd needed an outlet. How was he supposed to offer something meaningful for that? It wasn't like with Shiro. Shiro was suffering PTSD, _a whole year_ of living in fight-or-flight mode and the dangers therein. Pidge wasn't flashing back and sinking into memories. She was remembering and overthinking.

In other words, she needed instinct.

He glanced down at their bound wrists and hands.

Keith let out a sigh and looked up to the ceiling. "The easy part is going through the motions again," he said softly. "That's just a lot of sparring until everything is second nature. If you have someone coming at you hard enough, you'll eventually have to trip them to give yourself breathing space and it will be instinct, not strategy." He hesitated. "If you want... After this..." he gently nudged their shared arm, "I can help with that. Push you."

Pidge gave a watery breath. "Not looking forward to that," she grumbled. "But I probably need it."

Keith looked away again. "Look, you need some time before we start that. I don't know, a month maybe? Some distance. Then we can come back to this." Assuming a fight with the Galra didn't require a repeat. If it did, he would have to talk to her afterward, probably. Keith grimaced. Shiro would be _soooo_ much better at this.

"Thanks," she said quietly. "You don't have to."

He kept looking away. "No problem."

The moment hung there and Keith decided he'd had enough awkwardness for one day. In fact, waaaay too much awkwardness for one day. Time to switch things up. He gave a signal with their bound hands and they both stood. "Okay," he said, "we need to change this up."

"New routine? Sure, I'll definitely take that," Pidge gave a small smile. "What have you got in mind?"

Keith frowned, running scenarios through his head, before the corner of his mouth kicked into a smirk. "Voltron has a sword and a shield," he said slowly, watching recognition and understanding bloom on Pidge's face. "I have a sword."

Pidge lifted her arm. "And I have a shield."

"This would be a clear benefit to Voltron."

"No way for Shiro to nit pick about that."

Both bore gleeful smiles and set about programming the computer.

* * *

Shiro was... better wasn't the right word. Good wasn't the right word either. He would feel _good_ Sendak was off the ship. He would be simply _better_ when the technology to transport his consciousness somewhere safe to interrogate. He would be absolutely _great_ he he could sleep a good four hours before a nightmare woke him up. But Coran was now focused on purging, reinstalling, and upgrading the systems that transported consciousness and Shiro felt... A muscle in the back of his neck was more relaxed. He had better control of himself; he could breathe better.

He had spent the day learning more about how King Alfor had been copied into the castle than he had any hope of understanding, but watching Coran do his work and hand him tools as necessary helped, and when they trucked the equipment down to the cryopod Shiro could look at the puffy-eared Glara and feel something other than acute stress. He even cracked a smile, darkly anticipating the list of questions and the sensation of knowing he would be in complete control.

As Coran wrapped up for the day Shiro broke away, thinking loosely of some training since he had skipped out on all day. The exercise would help him focus and make him tired enough to have a light diner and go to bed. Then three hours sleep before the next nightmare, three hours after that, and then it would be morning and time to talk with-

With the team.

 _Quiznak_ , in his rush to keep himself sane he had completely skipped out on looking after his team. All self-worth carefully built up during the day spiraled away like wisps of smoke, and he sucked in a breath and held it to get himself back under control. Shiro rubbed his chin and mentally listed all the ways he was a capable leader and doing his best, forcing himself to ignore his (long to the point of unending) litany of failures and focus on being what he needed to be: strong, capable, supportive, understanding. He needed to apologize to the rest, explain what he was doing and let them decide how to react.

He exhaled and then took another breath. Repeating the process two or three (or five) times to get his head in the game.

Pretending to feel better, his steps were more deliberate as he walked to the training deck. He could make out the sounds of training: grunts, cries, swishes of movement. He opened the door and saw Keith and Pidge dancing around an Altean drone. Keith had his sword out, bouncing on his feet as Pidge held a shield, eyes darting everywhere. The drone fired its weapon and Keith turned away, allowing Pidge to come in and block the shot. Keith spun around and swung his sword, landing a hit on the drone and making it disappear in holographic light.

"Better," he said, taking a breath.

Pidge wiggled her wrist, the motion more visible because of the shield. "We should have thought of this much sooner. This is exactly what we need to get better when we form Voltron."

"Do you know what to do next?"

"Keep my arc around you tighter and angle the shield to cover more of you – which by the way, is _quiznak_ hard when you're spinning around _behind_ me. Can you make a noise or something so I can track your movement?"

"That's... actually a good idea," Keith said after a pause. "What else should I do?"

Pidge frowned. "Once the cuffs are off you'll have to show me the actual routine you're doing. Like I said I can't see it when you're behind me. Maybe if we did this without the bonds we could watch each other's form, but for now I want to do it again in slow motion, see if we can't break our necks looking over our shoulders at what the other one is doing. Unless," she added, mischievous grin on her face, "You want the tether again."

But Keith was already looking away as Shiro walked towards them. "Shiro!" he said, lifting his hand a few centimeters in her version of a wave. Pidge stiffened and turned around.

Shiro looked between them, not quite sure what to make of what he was watching. He looked to Keith. "From the top," he said simply.

Keith snapped his head up and down in a nod, looked at Pidge, and she nodded as well, the two of them moving back to the center of the room. Shiro blinked as he realized they were walking in synch for several steps before the lengths of their gates broke it apart. Keith restarted the simulation, and all Shiro could do was watch as the two arms of Voltron played their parts: Keith swinging around the training deck with his sword and Pidge dancing around him with her shield. It wasn't a perfect balance, Shiro could tell; Keith was leading too much and Pidge was struggling to keep up and cover him but it was miles and away better than when they were fighting on Arusia, or on the Balmera. Keith called out moves and Pidge gave short one word orders, and as one they fought the holographic drones. Shiro was in awe – he'd never seen anything like this in the arena, no two-on-one match ups, and he marveled that the two had gotten this far in only a few days time.

The simulation ended and all he could do was blankly clap his hands to express how impressed he was. Pidge was smirking in satisfaction, her face an open book, and she elbowed Keith in the ribs as he looked down and fought the smile Shiro could see behind his eyes.

"Not bad, huh?" Pidge said, walking up and tugging lightly at her partner to follow. "Well, not technically great; we only just started this and there's probably a world of ways we could improve that _felt_ really good!"

Shiro smiled. "And it looked really good, too," he said. "I wasn't expecting that."

Pidge beamed and Shiro turned his gaze to Keith. "You did well. Both of you."

Keith flushed at the praise, quick to look away and hide the tell. "Did you finish your project?" he asked instead.

The self-doubt washed over Shiro again, and he held his breath for a beat to settle is heart rate. "We'll talk about it more tomorrow," he said instead, reaching out instead and unlocking the binders. "For now I'd say the lesson has been learned."

"Yes! No more insanity! I can go back to studying the Galra crystal! Oh, I am _so_ going to rub this in Lance and Hunk's faces!"

Shiro closed his eyes and nodded sagely, letting Pidge have her moment before pasting on a sly grin. "You can do that by showing them this routine you just worked out."

Both faces fell, but only briefly as they exchanged a glance and smirked at each other. Shiro gestured off the training deck, and the two moved out to have some diner. Shiro followed, slowing briefly to look back out over the expansive room, mentally replaying what he had just witnessed. It had been a thing of beauty – better than what he had hoped for, and it had happened when he – literally – wasn't looking. Oh, he understood that that was to be expected, that that was the whole point of the lesson, and Pidge and Keith in particular would take an assignment like this and excel. But...

He shook his head.

The next training deck had Hunk and Lance sitting across from each other.

"And then what comes after?" Hunk demanded.

"Chest, chest, stomach cross-arms."

"Good. What's the footwork?"

"Kind of like the meringue – side-step, side-step, side-step, then turn – but, like, with a leg up."

"Good. Let's try the next phase."

The two stood, and Hunk started counting, and as one the two of them started... slapping parts of their body? With the clothes on the rhythm wasn't as strong as it could be, but what impressed Shiro was the footwork. Even with their ankles bound together and risking elbowing each other at every turn, neither one of them lost balance and stomped their feet near perfectly. Again, the two of them had improved greatly, and Shiro had no idea how that even happened. He clapped his hands lightly, causing both boys to look up.

"Interesting dance," he called out.

"It's one of Hunk's," Lance said, happy to volunteer the information. "We're going to do it before the princess at diner and score some major respect points – and totally outclass that slacker Keith in how amazing we are!"

"Well then," Shiro said lightly, "I think it would be easier if you didn't have this in the way:" and he knelt down and undid the binders.

The two shared a jubilant look, grins bursting into smiles and then a fierce high-five. They were whooping and hollering as they dashed off the deck, jumping and giving each other as wide a berth as possible now that they could. Shiro smiled as they toddled off, shaking his head at their antics, and as the noise dispersed and his mind quieted, dark thoughts started to curl into his mind:

Was he really necessary? The team improved at an amazing rate – when he had finally stopped paying attention. All of them were far better adjusted than he – none of them had nightmares that woke them, none of them had been kidnapped and experimented on, none of them suffered PTSD – and really, who was he to lead the team when his psyche was so badly damaged? He was healthy enough to know he needed help, and he was healthy enough to recognize his triggers, but _he wasn't better yet_. The trauma he had suffered wasn't going to go away overnight, but he was also in the middle of fighting a _war_ , and soldiers needed to have their act together and he was as far as humanly possible from together and-

Shiro shook his head. This was a bad day.

Thoughts like this always troubled him but he understood where they came from and with sufficient enough distraction he could turn them off. Today he couldn't, and if this kept up he would be up all night agonizing over his place on the team and the others didn't deserve that. He was their leader, and he just had to be as good as he possibly could.

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes in the empty training deck and forcibly rewiring his head, making himself list off all of his accomplishments:

With no prior training they had formed Voltron.

They had defeated two robot-beasts, one little more than assembled laser ports.

He had encouraged Pidge to get her Lion.

His bond with Black was strong enough to save them on Arusia when the first robot-beast attacked.

He kept his team focused when they were fighting.

He... defended the Castle of Lions... Faced off Sendak...

… _newer model move and your friend dies destroy that child..._

Shiro sucked in a breath, suddenly desperate for air. He shook his head again, more violently this time. Diner. Diner would help. Food, company, distraction. He needed noise. And then tonight he would help Pidge on her project, whatever it was.

He was a little pale when he finally sat down to eat, but Allura was there talking with Pidge as Lance and Keith ganged up against Coran shouting over something while Hunk stumbled around trying to hand out the plates.

Heaven, this was heaven.

He engaged the princess in conversation, noted how alert and functioning she was as one of the mice twittered on his shoulder. Pidge was babbling about her experiment with Keith and somehow connecting it to the Galra Crystal project she was working on – the logical jumps were a little thin – as she kicked Lance under the table right when he was drinking something, making him choke and blame Keith who simply glared at him. Hunk was trying to describe his latest creation to an audience who wasn't listening – save Shiro who thanked him gratefully for something that tasted so good as Coran regaled all of them with tales of his younger days in bootcamp and eating with the lads in the galley like they were now, followed by some kind of Altean analogy that no one understood. As the plates cleared and Hunk and Lance patted their full stomachs in unison Keith stood and offered to show them what he and Pidge had been working on that afternoon.

Everyone shifted to a different room, some kind of gala or ballroom, and the two pulled out their bayard and shield respectively and started moving through their forms. Keith grunted when he was behind Pidge and Pidge did a significantly better job keeping pace with him.

Allura clapped the loudest of all, expressing her gratitude that the arms of Voltron had begun to learn how to act in harmony and marveling that they had come so far so fast.

After that Lance and Hunk stepped up to show off their Pacific Islander dance. Hunk was obviously in his element and proud to show off his heritage, and Lance was a natural dancer, moving through the different slaps of sound effortlessly and keeping perfect time with Hunk. Everyone clapped and soon Coran was guiding the princess up to show them an Altean dance, the story of how the planet was first created and done every year on the solstice to give thanks for the light the sun gave their planet in nurturing life. Allura made it through the entire dance though she nearly collapsed into her... her space hover chair, and she soon retired after that, Coran of course following her and the mouse on Shiro's shoulder following suit.

The other four were quieter now, happy to be free of their bondage bonding exercise and so... so much healthier than he.

"You all did really well," he said, a smile on his lips. "This exercise wasn't pretty, but you all rose to the challenge and you learned a lot – about each other and about yourselves – and we'll all do that much better for the next battle."

Everyone showed different levels of pride, Pidge adjusting her glasses while glancing at the ever-stoic Keith, Hunk smiling brightly, Lance beaming in pride.

 _Yes_ , Shiro thought. He may not be perfect, or worthy of the team he had been given, but together, they made things better. For him. For the universe. The least he could do was make himself better.

The interrogation of Sendak tomorrow would help with that, but for now, thinks were good.

 **End**

 **Author's Notes:** And then Sendak's ghost haunts the ship and everything goes to hooey. Keep trying Shiro, we love you for trying.

Despite Shiro's ever-dubious mental health, this was a nice wrap up of the fic. Everyone learned one or more things about each other and because of that were able to perform in front of the others, Shiro has his project for the next episode, Allura continues to recover and it's like the next episode is ready to start or something. Not much to say, really, the fic ties up very neatly and there isn't all that much to add.

Again, the fic is going up unbeta'ed. I caught a lot of mistakes before we posted it but if anything was missed let us know and we'll fix it next week!

Hope you enjoyed!


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